#I keep putting her through Hell :'D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeonzzzn · 3 months

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can’t help but to think about jake being your family’s car washer, shirtless in the garage, sweat all over his face and dripping down his abs, panting due to extreme fatigue. You can’t help but stare at him as he noticed how you’re drooling over his naked body and how you practically eye fuck him. And of course, who is he to ignore your stares as he walk towards you and made you touch his exposed chests and abs, which leads to the both of you fucking on every car you have in the garage. 🥵

As one of the best writer here in this app, I request you to continue this 🤭 I love your fics btw and thank you for interacting with me 😫

HOLY FUCKING SHHIIIITTTTTTTTT YOUR BRAIN IS CHEF KISS ON G O D. I am so in love with this scenario like just imagining shirtless, sweaty, wet, and soapy jake fucking you on the clean car he just finished washing, leaving soapy stains and hand prints all over the hood…and THANK YOU for requesting this🤭 I am happy you put me into the category as one of the best writers…it gave me a hella ego boost fr fr!! this one is for you bae 😘🩷

jake x afab!reader word count: 2.2k

Ever since your family hired Jake as their personal car washer, you’ve struggled to keep your eyes to yourself.

You thought the idea of your family even hiring someone for such a job was, in fact, stupid. Completely ludicrous. Why hire someone to wash your cars when there are LITERAL car washes to drive your car through? Or ya know, the hands of the family members doing it

You guessed since your family had money to blow and not enough time on their hands, hiring Jake was something they wanted. You couldn’t argue with your parents, not when they are paying for your college and letting you live at home still rent-free…who were you to complain?

Obviously, the first few times Jake came to wash the cars, you’d scrunch your nose at him, purposely getting in your car and driving away, making his job harder on him. You didn’t care at first, you thought this idea was stupid and a waste of money when you could just wash your car yourself.

But it wasn’t until you took a nap after class completely forgot Jake was scheduled to wash the cars. Hearing the sound of water from the hose hitting the hoods of one of the cars that you jolted from your bed and quickly rushed to the window peeking behind the blinds, seeing Jake bent over your father's car, clothes completely soaked and soapy with the massive sponge in hand as he cleaned the hood.

You are filled with anger after seeing your car was moved and parked in the grass, seeing it was already cleaned.

Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you hated him even if it was for reasons unknown, not that he even cared, he was getting paid bank to wash four cars once every week. So when he arrived for his scheduled time and saw your car parked in the garage…oh the sweet shenanigans that filled his brain.

He’d knock on the front door like he does every time, smiling at your mother’s face when she opened the door for him, her earpiece attached to her ear showing that she was in the middle of a meeting. She smiled at him, raising her index finger to her lips and giving him a wink, waving him inside to grab the keys.

Jake grabbed the keys from the key bowl your family kept beside the garage door, his smirk growing ever more wide at seeing your keys sitting there.

So Jake washed your car first, pulling it from the garage. He didn’t even put the seat back into place after he was done like he normally would. He wanted to make your life hell the next time you sat in your car. Wanting to give him side-eyes, scrunched nose, and nasty looks every time you saw him? He’ll play your game. He even moved all the mirrors so you’d have to move them back and purposely leave your car parked in the grass in the front lawn knowing once you put two and two together you’d either rush outside to yell at him or stare at him from the second floor in your bedroom.

But you took too long to notice him, and he went ahead and started on your father’s car.

The early summer heat was making Jake exhausted. He was soaked, had soap literally everywhere, and could feel the sweat dripping down his face and body. He flung his head back, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows cursing the heat. But when he opened his eyes and saw you staring down at him from your bedroom…the game was back on.

Jake dropped the sponge into the water bucket, eyes going back to you and keeping eye contact as his fingers reached for the ends of his shirt, slowly lifting it above and over his head and dropping it onto the ground.

You quickly looked away from the window, slamming your back against the wall, hands slapping against your face.

Oh god, he’s hotter than I thought.

Since then, you didn’t mind Jake being around. You purposely started putting reminders into your phone on the days Jake would show up.

You always found Jake attractive, but that day he took his shirt off…it sent you to another world you didn’t think was possible. You were so angry at your parents for hiring him, but now all you did was thank them.

At first, you tried to hide that you were watching him, but he’d catch you every single time. And as the seasons changed from spring to summer, the less clothes Jake started to wear.

Again, he wasn’t an idiot. Jake knew you were eye fucking him every chance you got. You stopped being so secret at watching him. Giving every excuse in the book to walk into the garage to “grab something” or “get something from your car before he washes it”. It boosted his ego every single time knowing that you wanted him. He purposely started showing up wearing tighter shirts to tight tank tops that showed off his toned arms. Tighter shorts that gave away completely that man is packing.

Jake obviously thought you were hot too and he couldn’t deny that fact he’s thought about dicking you down against every single car in the garage. Imagining how completely dumb he’d have you on his cock.

And he finally was given that opportunity.

It was one of the hottest days of the week. Jake took off his tank top to cool himself off for once instead of doing it to make you tremble. But it worked in his favor as he walked into the garage to cool and dry off before moving the final car back into the garage, and you walked out.

Jake stopped halfway into the garage, eyeing you up and down.

You were wearing a white crop tank top that hugged your breasts perfectly. Jake loved the fact you weren’t wearing a bra, noticing quickly how your nipples poked through. And oh GOD he noticed how tight your shorts were, hugging your thighs and pushing up in between your pussy’s lips, showing off the outline. Jake could only imagine how good your ass looked in those shorts, silently begging that you’d give him an excuse to grab something and turn around so he could see the view.

“Oh uhhh…” you said, eyes scanning his body and stopping at his abs. You weren’t expecting to see him in the garage, clearly already finished his job. Every excuse you had to use was thrown out the window, “Finished already?”

Jake chuckled slowly walking towards you, “Since when have you cared when I’ve…finished?”

Jake was getting too close to you, well not too close to the point you didn’t like it, you obviously wanted him closer, but you weren’t prepared for it at this moment.

“I uhh…” you tried to search for the right things to say, any excuse you could say. At this point any bullshit. You’ve only ever stared at him from a distance, talked to him in passing so you could stare at him. These were the consequences of your actions.

“Use your words, baby,” Jake said, his body now inches away from yours, chuckles escaping his mouth, “What? You were so vocal about how much you hated me when we first met, why so quiet now?”

Because you’re the hottest human being I’ve ever met

You just slightly shrugged, still trying to find literally anything to say.

“I said,” he whispered, his wet, soapy hands grabbing both of yours and blessing them on his wet, soapy, sweaty chest, “Use your words,”

You tried to not moan out just from touching him. The warmth of his chest was enough to send your whole body temperature skyrocketing. Your eyes wander down to his chest, watching as the water mixed with his sweat rolled down his body, how his chest raised and fell, feeling how fast his heart was racing.

You slid your hands down his chest, stopping at the top of his abs, letting your fingers trace around them.

Just from your touch, Jake was already rock hard. He wanted nothing more than to drag you up the stairs and bend you over your bed, face pressed so deep into the sheets while he railed you from behind. But he couldn’t get up the stairs without passing your parent’s shared office. The garage would have to do.

Jake wasted no time flying his hands to your waist and pressing you to him, his lips pressing aggressively with yours.

Your thighs rubbed together at feeling him against you. You wanted him. Oh god did you want him.

Jake mapped out the garage in his mind, looking for a place he could fuck you without making anyone in the house take notice of it.

And there was only one place he could think.

Jake quickly twisted you around, your back being pressed against the hood of your car. The water and soap from Jake’s body were now seeping into your clothes, making them soaked.

Jake groaned at your now wet shirt, your nipples showing through completely and he didn’t even have to remove your shirt for it.

Jake’s lips found yours again, his fingers sliding down to your heat, rubbing it gently. You were already so soaked and he barely touched you.

“Fuck baby girl, already so wet for me?” he smirked against your lips, “Already so needy for my cock.”

You quickly nodded, wanting to feel more than just his fingers rub against your cunt.

“Use your words, we’re both adults here,”

You now wanted to beat the shit out of him. Jake was loving this, loved the way you scrunched your nose at him teasing you.

“Fuck me, Jake.”

Jake took your wrists in his hands, pinning your hands above you, “Where are your manners?” he rubbed his clothed hard dick against your cunt, “Only good girls get what they want.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, wanted to be a brat, but didn’t want to test Jake’s patience.

“Fuck me please Jakey,”

Jake groaned at the nickname, his hand going back down to your folds and sliding your shorts to the side and pushing his wet shorts down far enough to release his throbbing cock.

You bit your lip at the sight of his cock, your pussy clenching around nothing at the anticipation of him fucking you.

Jake lined himself up with you, then pushed himself in.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, pushing him deeper inside of you.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he moaned in your ear, having to steady his hands at the side of your head to help fuck into you, “Fantasized so much on how good your pussy would feel wrapped around me.”

You had to bite down on your lip to keep your moans from escaping, not wanting to get caught.

Jake had other plans.

His hand reached up to your chin, fingers pulling your lip from your teeth and spreading your mouth open, “Oh no sweet thing,” he growled, “You’ve been so vocal before, you aren’t going to go quiet now.”

He fucked into your harder, faster, making the car beneath you two shake at his pace, “Moan for me. Moan my name, use that pretty voice of yours.”

You tilted your head to the side, attaching your lips to his ear, moaning out his name.

If you were going to be vocal, it was going to directly be in his ear. And oh man Jake was loving it.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he groans, his fingers trying to keep their grips on the hood from how wet and sweaty he was, from the soap that covered his body making it hard to keep in place. But he didn’t care. He was balls deep inside you, you were moaning his name like it was the only word you could speak. He was in heaven fucking an angel.

Jake didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last, your tight cunt was sucking him so good and he was so pussy drunk he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was unloading himself into you. His climax was fast approaching, but he’d be damned if he came before you.

His hand flew to your cunt, thumb rubbing circles against your clit and his lips sucking on your soft spot just below your ear and jaw, “Cum for me baby,”

Your pussy clenched around him, the sensation and the magic of his fingers was sending you over the edge. Your hands gripped the hood of your car the best they could as you released onto him.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he moaned biting your skin, his thrusts slowly coming to a stop as he made one final push, painting your gummy walls white.

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling out of you and setting your shorts back into place.

Fuck you were a sight to see, looking so fucked out against your car that he just finished washing that now had your and his hand prints all over the hood.

Damn, guess he now has an excuse to have to come back over tomorrow to “wash it again” or better yet fuck you against it and every car in this garage.

And by the look on your face, Jake knew you were thinking the same thing.

#jake bby #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #reader x jake #sim jaeyun x reader #reader x sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #yeonzzzn writing #yeonzzzn asks

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lovelyney · 5 months

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────𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒────

IN WHICH: You accidentally whack Wriothesley in the nose during a training session and feel bad !!

PAIRINGS: Wriothesley x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: fluff but gets kind of nsfw towards the end ??

WARNINGS: uh wrio makes a comment implying masturbation towards the end? that and you guys just makeout, lol.

FLORIST’S NOTE: Reader is a mix between Wrio’s and Sigewinne’s assistant !! Also happy belated new years, blossoms !!

SONG: Bang! Bang! (K,NAAN & Adam Levine)

───────────2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

WRIOTHESLEY LAUGHS as you drag him through the Fortress of Meropide, drawing the attention of those around you. Though typically, you’d feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, or perhaps self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of others, this time, it’s different. Your attention is focused solely on Wriothesley as he holds his free hand up to his bloodied nose. Knowing Wriothesley and his job here, it’s easy to imagine it resulting from a scuffle with a particularly stubborn criminal or something along those lines. However, the truth cannot be farther from that. In actuality, you’re the one responsible for this bloody nose. . . Allow me to expand on the situation a little.

Around a week or so ago, he unexpectedly marched into your office and insisted you learn how to fight. His motives for the sudden declaration were not out of a lack of appreciation for your work at the Fortress but rather a desire for your protection while he’s away. On another note, he believes you’re too “reserved and gentle” with others—“too much like a frightened kitten rather than a fearsome lion,” as he blatantly put it. It was a comparison you found somewhat degrading, yet you couldn’t deny it did speak the truth of your nature. In the end, you decided to comply with his wishes, and from there on out, he started to teach you self-defense and train you.

Cut to the present: Wriothesley pulled you aside for your daily training session. Everything was going swimmingly at first, with you defending yourself from his attacks as usual. Then, amid it all, you accidentally hit him square in the nose and rather hard at that. The punch was neither intentional nor malicious, but it still managed to send him stumbling back and clutching his nose in pain. A tsunami of guilt and worry flooded your system as you frantically apologized to him, but he simply brushed it off and smiled. The look in his eyes was one of mild shock but also of something more. . . fond. He seemed amused rather than angry or annoyed, appearing to be impressed and even a little smitten.

Sigewinne enters the infirmary with the medical supplies you requested, stopping just inside the door to ask you a question. She furrows her brow in concern, noticing the panic in your expression. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of him, Mx. (Y/N)? You’re a bit pale. . . Maybe you should sit and rest for a little while,” she offers kindly.

Wriothesley observes you with a lovesick expression as you prepare a cotton swab, your tongue poking out between your lips from concentration. His heart singes when you take his hand that’s pressed to his nose and lay it gently on his lap; your skin is warm and soft compared to his, scarred and calloused, from his duties here at the Fortress.

When you assure her with that enchanting smile of yours—the same one that drives him wild—it feels like his entire body has been set on fire, and he’s certain you can feel that fire when you press your palm to his cheek to keep him still. “D—Don’t worry, Sigewinne. I’ll be alright. Thank you, though.” You answer calmly, despite your hold on him being slightly shaky.

With a brief nod of her head, Sigewinne slips out of the room, leaving you and Wriothesley alone. As you press the cotton swab to his nose, he lets out a sharp hissing sound as the disinfectant works its magic. “Ouch! Shit, maybe I didn’t give you enough credit. That was a hell of a punch. . .” he chortles, trying to lighten up your mood a little. But his amusement falters when you pout, your face a heartbreakingly adorable sight.

“I—I really am sorry, Your Grace! I didn’t expect to hit you so hard. . . In—In fact, I thought you’d move out of the way before I even got the chance too,” you lament and carefully tilt his chin up, making sure you cleaned all the blood off. “How badly does it hurt? Do—Do you want me to go get some painkillers or ice? Please, just—”

“Breathe, (Y/N).” Wriothesley’s tone is soothing as he speaks, seeming intent on consoling you. “I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with far worse scuffs than this. So, please, don’t think for a second I’m mad at you or anything of that nature. I’m more proud than anything, really.” He adds, melting under the warmth and care of your gaze. He finds himself feeling a little selfish in this moment, wishing you’d always spend so much time doting on him. You’re always so engrossed in your work, and as much as he admires that side of you, he’s also become increasingly smitten with you without you even batting an eye. Your self-absorbed disposition has made you oblivious to his adoring eyes, and he can’t help but feel a mix of heartbreak and longing as he considers how blind you are to his affections. “Hm. . . Now that we’re alone, there is something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” he admits, humming contentedly as your hand presses to his face once more, oblivious to the surge of adrenaline that shoots through his veins with every touch. Your affectionate actions result from your nurturing demeanor, but he begs silently for them to mean something more.

Your puzzled expression, bearing a resemblance to a confused puppy, only further softens the gentle smile on Wriothesley’s face. “Is that so? Is—is there a reason you’re only bringing it up now?” You inquire anxiously, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You hope that your unexpected punch wasn’t the last straw for him firing you or something like that. The worry in your voice and tension in your body language betray your deep concern, and Wriothesley finds himself smitten by your innocence and tenderness.

The duke pauses momentarily, seeming to mull something over in his mind. “It’s been harder to get you alone these days, with you always engrossed in your paperwork or helping Sigewinne. I can’t bring myself to tear you away when you’re always so faithful.” He acknowledges. His eyes linger over your lips for just a moment too long, his imagination taking over as he considers the softness of them and how they taste. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he holds back the urge to kiss those teeth away and murmur how he’s the only one allowed to ruin your lips.

You mutter the words, “My apologies, your Grace,” as you press the bandage to the bridge of his nose. Taking a step back, you freeze under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, you have my full, unrivaled attention as of r-right now...?” You try to sound confident, but your sheepish expression gives you away.

Wriothesley hums in response, amused and enticed by the sudden color that washes over your face. Clearing his throat, he slips one hand around your waist and pulls you flush against his warm frame. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as he allows the intensity of the moment to sink in. “Oh? Do I now? Good,” he purrs, his voice deep and velvety as it echoes in your ears—sending vibrations throughout your core. You shudder when the smooth of his fingers glide over the exposed skin on your waist, and he almost finds it a little sadistic with how much he’s enjoying you squirm when he hasn’t even done anything.

Your breathing becomes a touch erratic as you feel the lingering touch of his hand against your waist. You attempt to mask your growing excitement, skin prickling with electricity. Despite your best efforts, there’s a faint quiver in your words that you can only hope he doesn’t notice. “G—Go on. . .”

Sadly, nothing gets past Wriothesley’s gaze, and he’s able to take note of your trembling voice and hands; he isn’t the duke for nothing, after all. He can’t help but feel the boost to his ego when he realizes he has a tight grip over you at this moment. With a swift tug, you’re suddenly pushed against his broad chest, eyes blown wide. He chuckles as you choke over your words, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “You know, (princess/prince). . . I can’t tell if you’re just dense or trying to prove something to yourself.” The raven-haired male teases. “I’ve been smitten with you for weeks now, you know,” he presses, eyes trained on your expression to read any changes. “I can’t help but wonder if you’re as aware as your actions suggest—or if you have been merely feigning ignorance. Please, explain yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the magnitude of Wriothesley’s words settles in; he’s so direct and brazen with his declaration that it sucks all the breath out of your lungs. Your mind races as you grapple with the sudden realization that he is just as enamored with you as you are with him. Your expression must speak louder than words because as you open your lips to speak, Wriothesley closes the distance—slotting his mouth on yours.

It sends all your senses reeling like they’ve been drenched in ice water after burning for too long. Like a balm and a spark, it’s both a soothing salve and a blazing inferno, comforting and ravaging you in equal measure. All the tension of your attraction has suddenly become a physical manifestation, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that have gone unsaid for too long.

Wriothesley pulls himself even closer to you, his passion only intensifying the longer the kiss carries on. The feeling of his body pressing against yours ignites a primal urge within you, driving the kisses to become more intense. His hands slide further down the bare flesh of your back, tracing your waist in a possessive claim to your body. His tongue dives underneath your bottom lip; it probes between them, trying to gain access to the interior of your mouth.

A noise akin to a muffled whimper escapes your throat as his tongue pushes into your mouth with a feverish, nearly desperate need. The intensity of the sensation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself shudder with a sense of raw desire as his hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, his fingers squeezing and digging into the soft flesh. His touch is both tender and possessive, sending your nerves reeling.

When his fingers climb closer up your thighs, you plant your hands on his face and gently push his head away, his mouth chasing after yours instantaneously. You sigh softly, your face flushed scarlet from the heat of the situation. “Wriothesley. . . We are still in your office. Anyone can walk in at any time.” You chuckle, swiping the saliva from his bottom lip.

His body hums with contentment at the breathless sound of his name coming from your lips. He lets out a displeased huff as he nestles his nose in the crook of your neck, sharply inhaling your scent and drowning himself in the warmth of your body. He absentmindedly starts nipping at your skin, “And? I’ve had enough nights getting off—”

“O—Okayokay! As an. . . apology for keeping you waiting, how about after work, we fulfill those fantasies of yours?” You chuckle nervously and thread your fingers through his hair, smiling when he leans his entire body onto you. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way some of the inmates looked at me when I dragged you in here. . . I don’t think I could recover if they walked in and found out they guessed right.”

Wriothesley’s laughter is like a deep, thunderous rumble that soon after swarms your stomach with butterflies. His kisses pepper your face in response, the sweet scent of your skin filling him with a sense of contentment. He pulls away and smiles down at you, the heat and adoration in his eyes impossible to miss. “After work, then,” he repeats and holds up his pinky, signaling you to do the same. Rolling your eyes, you indulge him and hook your pinky to his—a cutesy gesture veiled in a not-so-innocent promise.

#꒱₊˚ fawn’s flowers #꒱₊˚ lumindounce bells #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff

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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months

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The bakery is a front!...Right? Part 5

Danny opens his eyes to the sight of a potent magical barrier glowing around him. It would have held off many of his subjects but did nothing against his court, much less the king.

Then, he noticed he was in some sort of cave, strapped down to a fluffy bed. There isn't much he can see besides the various machines hooked up throughout the place, various cars, two planes, what appeared to be a training ground, and a.... dinosaur?

Where the hell am I? He thinks, trying to recall what happened to lead him here. But all he can clearly remember is fighting with Phantom over going to the park. Everything after that was a blur.

He tries to move, frowning at the very little give of his restraints. One around each of his four limbs, three large belts over his knees, stomach, and upper chest.

After a few minutes of struggling as a human, he slumps in place.

His blue eyes fly over the runes that shine along the barrier's side, noting three magical signatures. This was a group effort. Strange. Who would put Danny here?

Phantom remains silent but watchful from their shared eyes as Danny scans his surroundings again to ensure no one is around before shifting. As soon as his ghost forms, the barrier flairs, indicating an alarm has been tripped.

Danny sighs tiredly, allowing his body to pass through the restraints. Phantom reaches out to push his hand through the barrier, wiggling his fingers on the other side. Just as they thought, it's not going to keep Danny inside.

Feels like water. Phantom says, and Danny agrees. Whoever put him in here either overestimated their strength or underestimated Danny. He hopes it's not another death cult. Those always left him feeling sick after dealing with them.

It's then Danny realizes another fact. Phantom does not feel like his body trying to split in half; Phantom feels like himself again, another part of who makes up Danny.

Like the inner voice when you read in your head, just as his ghost half had always been since he was fourteen. Danny had been in this creepy cave for over a week because his mating season had finally ended.

That also meant that Danny was missing a full week of memories.

He is going to have some words with whoever is responsible. Danny rechecks the barrier, realizing it's still flaring, and decides to wait for them to approach him. He can pretend he's trapped inside, hopefully creating a false sense of security and getting answers from his kidnappers.

He crosses his legs under him just as a portal rips open a few feet away from his barrier and out rushes a blond man in a trench coat. Behind the man is a woman in a magician outfit and a teenage girl in a purple cape. Danny scans each person, noting the barrier's magical signature matches them all, and knows they are responsible.

Trench coat falls to one knee, bowing his head in respect. "Your majesty."

The other two follow suit after he speaks, repeating his greeting. It seems Trench Coat is the leader. The ghost king leans back on his hands, frost slowly spreading over the blankets under his palms.

It crawls to the edges, slowly falling down the legs of the bed and around the floor. Danny stops it right at the lines of the barrier, knowing the blond man is watching it. The blond man's shoulder relaxes when the frost fails to go over the drawn lines.

So they did underestimate Danny. Well, it made things easier, at least.

"Where am I?" Knowing Phantom's voice echoes and unsettles the three kneeing magic users, he asks. Sam had once told him it sounded like the cracking of ice glaciers from within the giant ice caves after his friend returned from a trip to the artic with her parents.

Danny wasn't exactly sure what that sounded like, but he had always thought it made him more intimidating, especially when he kept his voice a regal calm. Tucker said the calm made it extra creepy, and he wanted to watch these three sweat right now.

"The Batcave, your Highness." Trench Coat responds. Danny's jaw drops.

"The what cave!?" He gasps, springing up from the bed to spin around and look at his surrounding better. He knows he just shattered the illusion but come on! It's the Batcave! This place was a legend among his customers! "Batcave as in Batman!?"

"Indeed." A new voice calls and Danny's head snaps toward a man hiding within a shadow. He's good for a human, but although the shadows open their arms to him, they are not part of him, and Danny can trace every inch of him as easily as though a spotlight had been shined on him.

"Batman" He whispers in awe. The Dark Knight steps out into the line of sight of the other three, ignoring Trench Coat when the blond man starts to hiss at him to kneel. "I got kidnapped by Batman. That's so metal."

Batman, to his credit, doesn't even flinch at the accusation. "You were deemed a danger to the public."

Danny snorts. "Been there. Done that. Got a cookie on the way back."

The mask man's eyes narrow. "Are you aware of the damage you have caused? The lives you have potentially ruined since arriving in my city?"

"Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. All I did was open a bakery." Danny glances down at the magic users before waving a hand. "You three can stand now, by the way."

The three stand as Batman steps up against the barrier. He looms over Danny in a poor attempt at intimation. Even with having to tilt his head back to keep eye contact and the glowing yellow stip of magic, Danny finds himself on equal footing with the human.

"Batman, bugger off. Now." Trench Coat hisses, yanking the other back a few steps. "We do not need a war with one of the most powerful beings in the multiverse."

"A being that tried to steal my sons." The other man growls, and Danny blinks.

"First of all, I didn't even know you had kids. Second, I have never met them in my life, much less steal-"

"Red Robin will not be going with you, no matter what you say!" Batman interrupts. "If I have to keep you here until the contract is neutralized, I will."

"This is not helping B." The woman dressed like a magician says. She was beyond nervous, a slight tremble ranking her frame. "We're supposed to be negotiating the terms of the engagement."

"The engagement?" Danny mouths, confused.

"We have his sister, Jassmin Fenton. That's a good enough starting point-" The girl in the cape starts, and Danny snaps to attention at his sister's name. Her neck is in his hand, cutting off her words with a chock gasp. He sneers in her face even as the other three scream at the speed he crosses the barrier.

"Where. Is. Jazz."

"Raven!" The other woman screams. "Prat eht gnik ni a egac!"

Her magic washes over him but freezes as Danny's power overtakes it. The spell lands on the ground as a sparkling clump of ice.

The girl claws at his hands, trying to pry him off even when a bear tazer slams into his side, sending electricity throughout his body. If he had been fourteen that would have been enough to have scared him enough into letting go.

He's not a little kid anymore, though. He backhands Batman away from him, catching the tazer he drops as he is flung and throwing it at Trench Coat.

It slams against the man, knocking him on his ass. "I didn't even do anything!"

Danny raises the girl, wondering if he should squeeze more- it's not choking her. He just wanted to scare her.- when Ellie came flying from the direction of a large stone stairway. It seems the Batcave was underneath something. "Danny, stop! Let her go!"

"They kidnapped Jazz!" He yells, eyes blazing in an angry green. Raven's eyes widened at the color. She chants a spell, but her magic is frozen like Zatanna's was before it could even form. She looks stricken.

Not surprising since magic is supposed to be one thing to never fail against the paranormal. Too bad for her Danny is the king and thus far more powerful than the average ghost.

"No, they didn't! She literally upstairs flirting with Jason!"

Danny lets Raven go to swing his head in Ellie's direction. "Who the fuck is Jason!?"

"A really buff book nerd."

"Of course he is."

"Yeah, he's also Peter Draper." Ellie continues with a What can you do shrug.

"Oh, word?" Danny tries to imagine Jazz and Peter, but his employee is so short-tempered that he finds it odd his sister would ever look his way twice. Then again, Peter was only short-tempered because he was trying to keep Alvin safe from Phantom's charm, so....maybe that's what got her attention?

"Your Highness," Trench Coat clears his throat. "We really need to discuss the engagement."

"What engagement?"

Ellie flies over to drape herself across his shoulders like a floating scarf. "The one between you and Timothy Drake."

"The Wayne CEO?" Danny never met the guy; how was he engaged to him?

"Yeah, but you know him as Alvin Draper or Red Robin." Ellie shrugs at his Godsmack expression. "The Bats thought you were selling drugs, using kids as carriers, and using the bakery as a front to cover up your crimes."

"Drugs? Child endangerment!? Why would they think I would do something so terrible?! My bakery is a lovely place!"

"Cause you're kind of shady, Danny. Fruitloop shady."

"I'm disowning you." Danny turns his attention back to the four - heroes? If they were with Batman, they had to be right?- and frown. "I love Gotham. I was just trying to sell pastries and help my community."

"Yeah, but you're still shady." Ellie laughs, ignoring the disownment like every other time Danny threatened her. "They sent in spies to figure you out."

"Spies? In my bakery?" Danny repeats, horrified. He snaps his fingers at his sister, narrowing his eyes. "You can never tell Andres he was right."

She bares her teeth in response, and he knows his store manager will be unbearable come Monday. Danny covers his face wanting to scream, until Batman steps to growl at him. "Tim isn't going anywhere with you."

Danny squints at him. "You're making it sound like I'm taking him by force."

"You are." And another voice jumps in, but this one is familiar. Danny twists around to see Alvin-er Tim calmly walk down the large stairway wearing only white pants. Along the sides of the pants are runes that make Danny's stomach drop.

They're the marking of a human sacrifice in the ghost zone.

"I won't resist." Tim continues stopping before a horrified Danny and clasping his hands tightly. Tim's gaze rests on his feet, every inch of him portraying submission. A group of people quickly come down the stairs, each trying to talk over the other, but Danny can't take his eyes off the human, giving himself up.

Phantom's core weeps. When a human is made into a sacrifice, there is nothing other ghosts can do to intervene. It's one of the Rules within the zone, like Truce Day. There was nothing he could do to save his employee.

"Who?" He whispers his ghostly glow highlighting the youth in Tim's face. Only nineteen. "Who do you belong to?"

Tim's hands twitch, but it's the only sign of discomfort as he lowers his gaze even more. "To you, your highness."

"Wha-"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Jazz yells, walking over to whack him on the head. Ellie moves so her hand can reach his skull and punches the back of his head. Several people gasp, scandalized, but she does seem to care as she starts nagging. "Daniel Fenton! You let this boy out of his human sacrifice engagement with you right now!"

"His what with what?!" Danny screams back, only to have Sam walk around a blond woman and stomp on his foot. "Ow!"

"This a dick move, Danny! Tucker, come over here and tell him!"

His best friend appears only to punch him in the gut. "It's mess up, man! Tim didn't even know he was walking into a fae circle when he went to your apartment!"

"Stop hitting me! I don't even know what the hell is going on!" He yells, rubbing his bruised stomach.

Jazz crosses her arms and taps her foot. "Five. Four."

"Why are you counting?"

" Three. Two"

"Jazz, seriously, stop it."

"One. Zer-"

"I, High King Phantom, release Timothy Drake with no conditions!" He screams, cowering away. The runes on Tim's pants snap like broken chains. "Just please don't say zero!"

"That's what I thought." She says, nodding her head and then laughing. "I can't believe that still works on you. I'm sorry we didn't explain, but I wanted to get Tim out of danger as soon as possible. Tim was the first to find you when the Bats raided your house a week ago, looking for non-existing drugs. Phantom took over in a mate craze and tried to keep him along with Damian- er Robin- prisoners. "

"We all had to join forces to free them, but you were too powerful. You ripped a portal into the ghost zone and took them." Sam takes over giving Danny a stink eye. She always does hate when Danny slips away to the zone to avoid them. "Tim struck a deal with Phantom agreeing to be his human sacrifice/ husband in exchange for his brother's freedom while the rest of us tried to get to the zone."

Danny doesn't know what to say but feels his mouth moving. It's Phantom who answers. "Again, from the bottom of my heart. My bad. Really. I just wanted a baby."

Ellie chirps, "Baby fever is a medical condition Phantom. Don't sweat it."

"Maybe sweat it a little." A man shouts from beside the frozen Tim. The teenager is staring at Danny with a kind of worship looking upon a saint. And a lover. Danny blushes slightly. "You stole my baby brothers."

"Richard. I can not have this conversation again with you." Phantom rolls his eyes and fades back into Fenton as he powers down. "All I did to Tim was try to cover him in blankets, feed him and make him sleep. My human side wasn't even aware of things."

"Still not cool, Phantom. I thought Danny was going to retake him after this visit," Richard responds, pressing Tim into his side. "Even if it was just due to your mating season, don't repeat it."

Danny takes over with a raised brow. "Don't go into my lair during my mating season, then. Who had you snooping?"

"We did what we had to." Batman is notably less hostile now that the contract between Tim and Danny is broken. Danny considers his words and then nods. He gets that. He would have done the same if he thought some creep was luring the street kids into something dangerous.

"Danny," Tim says, approaching the halfa "Will you go on a date with me?"

"Drake! No!" A child screams from the crowd, but Danny can only see those gorgeous blue eyes, and something deep within him uncoils. Phantom settles in Danny's soul with a content sigh. It's found its mate, after all.

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you." Danny pauses. "You won't work at the bakery anymore, right? I can't date my employees. That's a power imbalance."

Tim laughs leaning in to press his lips against Danny's. The other human's outraged cries fade away as Danny melts against him. "How could I ever think I could resist you. You're too perfect. "

"Wait- what?" Danny blinks, but Tim shushes him with another kiss. Both ignore how the Bats leap in to pull them apart, or Team Phantom rushes to protect Danny and fight them off.

John Constante watches the two groups with a frown "So...no war?"

"I don't think so?" Zatanna responds, confused, while Raven watches impassively.

Danny was right. Come Monday, Andres is unbearable, but Tim comes over for lunch and a quick make-out session, so it's worth it. Manolo returns later that day to invite Danny to his school band performance. His mother is now on her way to recovery, finally allowing him to learn the flute.

All is well in Phantom Bakes.

(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), (Part 4)

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #dead tired #The bakery is a front!...right?#Part 5 #End #Tim sort of fell in love with Phantom #and with Danny #Danny wake up babe- a new Phantom lore dropped

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13uswntimagines · 5 months

Text

The Come Down (Alessia Russo X MMA fighter!R)

R is a very popular MMA fighter, and Alessia sees the parts of you that other people don't. Shes the one who gets to put you back together again after a tough fight.

Warnings: D/S undertones but no smut.

Author's note: This was super fun to write and i hope you enjoy it. Feel free to hit me up with ideas and comments and stuff.

You sighed, leaning your head against the stone walls of the Emirates tunnel, letting it soothe the twinges that always lingered after a long flight.

It was masochistic, but the ache that lingered the day after a war in the Octagon was always one of your favorite feelings, especially if you won. It helped you to compartmentalize the parts of yourself. It helped you separate the completely in-control fighter, the stone-cold monster that didn’t give a fuck about her opponents, and the human that lingered underneath.

It was hard to punch a man until he was unconscious if you thought about how human he was. If you pictured his family and his life as anything other than an opponent for you to run through. But you never wanted that part of yourself to exist anywhere other than in the cage.

The throb in your muscles and ache in your cuts helped you lock that part of yourself away. It helped you keep your grip on reality in all of the post-fight hormones until you could get to the grounding force that was your girlfriend.

The post-fight come-down was always difficult for you, especially after a 5 round back and forth battle like the one you had just fought.

You loved your job, you really did, but it was so easy to… lose yourself. To get lost in the anger of the UFC universe and the vitriol of your opponents. To get lost in the cycle of Training, listening to a man tell you he was going to destroy you at press conferences, cutting weight and beating the ever-living fuck out of someone while people cheered.

Just being in the same building as Alessia had set you at ease, and watching her score 2 against Chelsea was even better.

But the sound of the crowd had started to set you on edge. The way they erupted when your face, black eye, stitched gash on your cheek curving up to your forehead and all, appeared on the Jumbotron after your girlfriend’s PK had you clenching your teeth. It egged on the thoughts of murdering the keeper that had taken her out swirling in your brain, along with the desire to demolish the player who had so callously stepped on her teammate after a play.

It was why you escaped to the tunnel, to gain some form of control over your thoughts.

Maybe flying out as soon as you had been cleared by the medics wasn’t such a good idea, but you couldn’t stand being away from Alessia any longer than you had to be. You couldn’t stand being away from the comfort, love, and… safety she offered you.

God, you sounded like a psycho.

Or a submissive nearing the end of her rope.

6 weeks apart from your girlfriend was really doing a number on you.

“Ay bruiser, fancy meeting you here,” Katie said, appearing in front of you with a wide smile.

You flashed a toothy grin at the Irishwoman, ignoring the way it pulled at the stitches holding your cheek together. “Maccabe, always a pleasure,”

She caught your arm. “That was one hell of a fight. Thought Less was gonna break my hand during the third round,”

You grimaced.

The third round was the only one your opponent won. He had caught you with a big overhand right, opening the gash on your cheek and knocking you on your ass in the last 15 seconds of the round. The knees he had followed it up with to your side hadn’t been fun either. He had almost finished you, and you knew it had to be hard for the team and your girlfriend to watch.

“My hand dipped when I tried to close the distance,”

It really was a game of inches, and he had certainly taken advantage of your small mistake. It was ok, you had gotten him in the end anyway.

Katie made a sound of agreement, glancing at the tunnel behind you. “Certainly made us all nervous, but I’m happy you took his head off, even if it took you until the last 30 seconds of the fight,”

She made a little kicking movement with her leg like a semi-recreation of the head kick you had used to end the fight.

“Didn’t want to rush it,” You shrugged, nodding to the Arsenal girls as they passed you, unable to help the way you automatically searched each face for your girlfriend.

“Ya missus is still signing for a couple of kids,” She gestured over her shoulder, a knowing smile still playing at her lips. “I can take you to her if you want?”

You shook your head. “I’ll wait here. I’m in no hurry,”

You also didn’t think you could deal with the sounds of the crowd when your head was still pounding, a consequence of taking a flight with a concussion against doctor's orders you supposed, and you ached every time you took a step, every time you inhaled too deeply really.

Katie’s eyes softened when she saw the emotions flit across your features. “Come on, let's go to the locker room instead. It’s away from prying eyes,”

She tugged your hand. You let her lead you deeper into the tunnel and into a room filled with wooden cubbies.

It was nice to let your brain turn off, to just… follow along and allow someone else to lead you.

“Hey champ,” Leah smiled at you as Katie deposited you in what you assumed was Alessia’s locker. “That was one hell of a fight last night,”

“Thanks,” You winked at the defender. “You guys had a fantastic game too,”

“I’m not sure a football match compares to a man trying to punch you in the face,” Steph said, glancing at you from her spot near Lottie.

You made a low sound in the back of your throat, feeling the tightness return to your chest. “But I don’t have people stepping on me after the bell,”

“But you do end up covered in blood,” Kyra chirped. “We don’t have to worry about that usually,”

“Most of the time it’s not mine,” You muttered, leaning further into your girlfriend's locker. Her perfume lingered in the cubby, and you let it soothe the frayed edges of your nerves.

You didn’t want to think about fighting. About the person. The savage. you were in the octagon. You toyed with the hem of your sweatshirt sleeve. It was slightly too long because it really belonged to Alessia. She had given it to you before fight week.

It helped, but it wasn’t her.

It hadn’t been enough after the fight, and it wasn’t enough now.

You didn’t think you could wait much longer, but you didn’t have to.

“The stadium is buzzin,” Alessia said slightly breathlessly, stepping through the locker room door.

You were immediately on your feet, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “Less,”

A grin instantly broke across her face, and she crossed the room in 3 long strides. Her arms wrapped around you, and without thinking you buried your face in her chest.

It made the gash on your cheek sting and the tender skin of your jaw ache, but you didn’t care, pressing yourself as tightly to her as you could. She shifted, her nails running over your back with one hand as the other cupped the back of your neck.

It was gentle, and grounding, and everything that you craved.

“Hey baby girl,” She breathed into your hair, her voice dipping just a little and sending a shudder down your spine.

She was like a ray of sunshine, always warm and sweet. It was why none of the fans would ever speculate about the positions that the two of you held in your relationship. They joked that she was too soft to be a dominant, but the people who understood how your relationship worked could see that her mix of firmness and warmth was exactly what you needed.

She waited for you to pull away first, just enough to meet her eyes. “Hey,”

She leaned in and placed a careful kiss on your lips. “I’ll shower and then we can go, yeah?”

You deflated, your fingers tangling more tightly in her jersey. You didn’t want to let her go, even if it was just for a second.

“You can come with me,” She said, a knowing look in her eyes. “And tell me all about fight week,”

“Ok,” You agreed, only loosening your grip long enough for her to grab her shower bag and change of clothes, before you latched back on, holding the hem of her jersey tightly as she led you towards the showers.

You felt a bit like a child, clinging to her, but she was like a buoy keeping you from drowning in the sea of your rocky emotions, and now that she was close to you, you couldn’t let her go. You were afraid that if you did, you would lose your grip on reality.

The warm, wet air of the shower helped too.

It reminded you of your post-fight routine.

Win or lose you would stand under the hot steam of the stadium, washing off the blood and sweat from the octagon until your coaches pulled you out. It was part of the routine that you had skipped since the docs wanted to stitch your cheek as soon as you were out of eyeshot of the fans.

Then you had felt so… off balance that you raced through a cold shower and hopped on a plane to get to your girlfriend as quickly as possible. You didn’t even stay for the post-fight press conference.

“Come on love,” She said, pulling you into one of the stalls, sliding the first curtain shut behind the two of you, and bringing her face inches from yours.

Her hand very gently cupped your cheek, mindful of the dark bruises that littered the skin, tilting your chin up. Her eyes searched you for a long moment like she was reading your mind. Like she was deciding what you needed from her.

Her pointer finger very gently followed the long cut that ran under your left cheek, up to your temple, and just above your eyebrow. “I thought they usually put a bandage over stitches,”

Your eyes darted away from her. “I didn’t like the way it pulled at my skin,”

“I think you’d like it less if you got an infection,” She deadpanned, using her thumb to tilt your chin up further as she stepped into your space. “You wouldn’t be able to fight,”

“But the scar would be worth it,” You shrugged, using all of your strength to muster up fake nonchalance.

Her lip quirked upward. “Would it?”

You let your own smile morph into a playful smirk, despite the tremendous effort it took. “Chicks dig girls with scars,”

“I think you’ve got enough of those, cheeky,” She hummed, leaning in and brushing the thick line that lived on the underside of your jaw with her nose. “I like it more when you come out without a scratch on you or a hair out of place,”

You hummed, leaning back on the stall wall as her lips replaced her nose on your jaw, her teeth grazing the delicate skin as she made her way down the column of your throat and back up.

Her hips pressed into yours, keeping you pinned to the wall, her thumbs insistent under your chin, keeping your head tilted up as her tongue slid pleasantly against your own.

You sighed into the kiss, your fingers twisting into the material of her jersey, trying to pull her closer.

Her thigh flexed between your legs, pressing into you, and you couldn’t help the way your hips rolled down to meet her.

Or the wince that broke the kiss when the

movement pulled uncomfortably at your ribs.

“Babe?”

You whined as she pulled away, blinking open to meet her burning blue eyes.

“I’m ok,” You said breathlessly, trying to lean back up to kiss her.

Her hand on your chest stopped you, as did the perfect arch of her eyebrow that screamed yeah right.

Her fingers traced down your chest to the hem of your shirt. They crept under your top, meeting the tape wrapped heavily across your abdomen instead of smooth skin.

Her eyes widened when she pulled up your sweatshirt, revealing the thick white bandages wrapped tightly across your stomach.

“Want to try again love?” She asked, finally looking up at you with an expression that had a shiver tingling down your spine.

“Just two cracked ribs and some nasty bruises,” You huffed, shifting uncomfortably when her fingers grazed the material.

“Just,” She snorted, shaking her head, dropping your shirt, and standing up to her full height. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want you to worry. The stitches were already enough,”

“I’d rather know and worry than accidentally hurt you,” Alessia said seriously.

You looked away from her, swallowing hard. “And I knew you wouldn’t touch me at all if I told you,”

“Baby girl,” She murmured, her voice going very soft, her thumb very gently ghosting over your uninjured cheek.

She knew that the come down from fights was always particularly difficult for you. That the power that you held in the octagon always made you crave submission. You craved to not have to think, to just exist, and then to let your being relax in the aftercare that followed.

This time the desire was amplified by the brutality of the fight.

She could see you teetering on the edge, fighting the fog that always filled your brain, and while she wanted to scold you for withholding information, she knew that that wasn’t what you needed from her.

Not when you were already dropping so hard.

“Ok,” She said, keeping her voice soft as you leaned further into her touch. “I’m going to shower, and you’re going to be a good girl and stay right here for me, alright?”

You made a low noise in the back of your throat, and your eyes slid closed as you nodded very slowly.

“Good girl,” She hummed, placing a very gentle kiss on your lips, and pulling away. “I’ll be two minutes love,”

You sagged against the shower stall wall.

You could do that. You could wait 120 seconds for your girlfriend.

You could and would do whatever she asked you to do because you knew it would help. You knew she would fit all of your loose pieces back together again and make it ok.

You just had to exist.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #the come down universe

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

“You ready, Lou?”

“Duh.”

“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”

“Yep.”

“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”

“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”

“Then I think we’re a go.”

“Gods, this is going to be great.”

———

Knockknockknock.

Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.

Knockknockknock.

“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.

Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.

Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”

She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.

“Chiron is leaving,” she says.

Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”

“With Mr. D. To some conference.”

“I heard.”

“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He left me in charge.”

“Probably wise.”

“I need an allegiance, Nico.”

“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”

She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”

Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.

(…And Will. Maybe.)

“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”

“…Lurk?”

“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”

“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”

“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”

“See ya!”

He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.

The next twenty four hours are going to rock.

———

“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”

“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”

“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”

“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”

———

Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.

“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”

“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.

“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”

With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.

“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”

Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.

“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.

Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.

———

“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”

“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”

“I hate both of you.”

———

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.

Then again.

It is camp.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.

“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

Caught.

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid.”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding dawns on her quickly.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

———

“Is he still looking?”

“No.”

“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”

———

Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.

He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)

For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.

“Neeks? Where’re you going?”

Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?

“Nico? You good, babes?”

He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.

“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”

“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.

For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.

And that is not all.

For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.

“What are you doing?”

“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”

Will and Reika exchange a look.

“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”

Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.

“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”

“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”

“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”

Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”

Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?

“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”

“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”

“Bleh bleh bleh.”

Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.

“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.

Coffee cake, save him.

———

“It’s not looking good, Katara —”

“I actually like that one.”

“— he’s totally onto us.”

“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”

———

To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.

As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.

Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.

Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.

It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.

Excellent.

“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”

“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.

“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”

Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

That gives her pause.

That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.

“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.

Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”

“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”

“Hey!”

“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”

Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.

“Does that settle things?” he demands.

Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.

The camp erupts.

Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.

“Just — everybody quiet!”

It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.

“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”

Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.

“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”

“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”

The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?

“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”

“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”

Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”

“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”

“Yeah, but camp-wide…”

“Could still be possible.”

“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”

It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.

Like they’re believing this shit.

Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.

“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”

That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”

“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.

But his aura.

The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.

Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.

He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.

If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.

———

#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did.#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #established solangelo #will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone #annabeth chase #nico di angelo & annabeth chase #my writing #fic #longpost

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miguel-ohara-lover · 9 months

Note

Badboy!miguel x nerdygirl reader

Where like badboy!miguel has an interest into this one specific nerd (which is reader) always trying get her attention,doing anything to impress her,even when she clearly doesn't want to deal with him, and that just get miguel to play harder,until one day he saw reader laughing and smile hard while blushing mess with an boy,causing anger to boil inside of him,veins popping but he doesn't show it,he wait until the end of the day and beat the hell of the boy, and grabing reader an pinned her down to an wall dealing her with his large body, this makes her scared and feel small she never saw him so angry before.

You could put nfsw if you'll like

Oh boy the one everyone’s craving… that’s a lot of pressure haha

Head Over Heels

(Badboy!Miguel x Nerdy!F!Reader)

CW: NSFW, yandere type shit, beating, too big, college, dirty talk in Spanish (all characters are well over 18)

Random note: I know you didn’t say it specifically but “Badboy” and “nerdy” makes me think school so college? Yeah idk sorry-

Miguel O’Hara watched as you walked through the courtyard. He loved to watch your skirt bounce, the pleated fabric swaying as you so elegantly made your way across campus. There were practically hearts in his eyes as his gaze never left your gorgeous form. You never noticed him of course. Part of him wished you would. But the other part was happy with his little secret. Stalking was such an ugly word, but how else would one define his actions?

[I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention]

There were times he did try, tried to get you to even look at him. Those weeks he felt particularly desperate. His throat was dry, skin warm to the touch. It was as if he were sent into a heat. Those days he couldn’t stay away, couldn’t stay in the bushes watching silently. Miguel would get close to you, enough to brush against you and take in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

[You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time]

“Oh- sorry!” You looked up at him, apologizing for bumping into his arm. You hadn’t known at the time it was on purpose.

His face flushed as he looked down at you, your voice sent shocks through his body. “It… it’s alright.” He managed to mutter as you walked away, having seen your friends approaching.

That one encounter played in his mind on repeat over and over again. The one time you had spoken to him. You were so sweet, so kind to him, it made his dick twitch in his pants. Your voice was like music to his ears, he couldn’t get enough of it. Until then he had been content just watching you from affair. Now, he needs to hear you. He needs to hear that angelic voice.

[Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away]

It soon developed into Miguel not being so hidden. After months of stalking, he finally started making real moves. He liked bringing you gifts, offering you rides places, offering to help with your assignments. You accepted, of course, who wouldn’t accept such kind gestures. He seemed like a lovely friend. You thought that’s all it was, a new friendship blooming, and that he was just a generous man. You thanked him many times, and he’d always respond with something about it being no big deal, and that he just likes seeing you smile.

His response was bullshit. It was a big deal. It was a huge deal to him. Every tiny action was important to him. Hearing you call him a friend, a pal, a buddy… It drove him mad. He wanted you to want him. He needed you to need him. He needed you, needed your body, your voice, your touch… He would do anything. No matter how obvious he made it, you never caught on. Perhaps you did and were just playing hard to get. He wasn’t sure. But either way, he hated it.

Miguel brought you flowers, chocolates, made valentines day such a big deal. He even called your little get togethers “dates”. He got no response, which made him more desperate. This you caught onto and started to irritate you. You loved Miguel dearly, but only as a friend. He never seemed to get that. He just wasn’t your type. He’s the leather-jacket-motorcycle-riding-cigarette-smoking “bad boy” of the university. You’d much rather stay in your dorm reading a nice book or finishing up your assignments. Not galivanting around town on a bike that is super dangerous while smoking which is also super dangerous and scaring the weaker students.

You hoped one day he’d move on, and even tried to set him up with one of your friends. She seemed much more his style, “goth” as you called it. She was much more punk than “goth” but didn’t care enough to correct your misunderstanding. They seemed to get along well. They hung out a few times, and she started to look forward to seeing him. You thought maybe he finally would move on, and so could you. She would always call you to talk about how much fun they had, how he took her for late night drives on his bike and such.

Even with this new friend he had, Miguel still wanted you. His persistence never let up; he still wanted you. So, when he saw you in the courtyard with a handsome fellow, his arm draped around your shoulders, he was filled with rage. An intense fury filled him, fiery passion burned within as he watched you. Someone was touching his girl. He couldn’t stand that.

The longer he watched, the angrier he became. Who did this guy think he was? He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve to see that smile, to hear your angelic laugh. You giggled at whatever this dickhead was telling you. Miguel scoffed to himself. What could he say that earned a laugh from you? No one knew you like he did. He certainly wouldn’t let this dick get away with this. Miguel wouldn’t- no, couldn’t let him get away with being so handsy, so touchy so… affectionate with his girl.

You blushed as this man talked to you, his voice so smooth and sultry. Miguel hated it. He hated seeing another man make your cheeks flush. He wanted that to be him. He would make sure it was him, no one else. No one else could even look at you, touch you, make you feel oh so good like he could. You didn’t know it yet, but no one would be as good to you as Miguel. Only Miguel. He needed to do something.

That night, he followed your new boytoy back to the men’s dorms. Miguel Stalked behind this man for a good ten minutes before pulling him down an unlit hallway, covering his mouth with a large hand to hide any screams. He struggled and strained against Miguel but was helpless in that tight grip. Miguel pushed him to the ground and started kicking him repeatedly, saying things about you being his and only his. He repeated phrases about not going near you again, never speaking to you again, not even looking at you or passing you in the hallway. You belonged to him.

After the attack he left the guy laying there on the ground, bloody and severely bruised… and maybe with a broken rib or two just to really get the message across. Now he had to find you. He needed to. He needed to see you, to hold you in his arms. He’s sure you’ll need comfort when you realize your boy toy is ghosting you, and he’s just the man to provide said comfort.

Miguel grinned when he saw you making your way to your dorm. You were alone. Perfect. He made his way over to you, coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. The gesture made your heart jump. A million thoughts ran through your hand, wondering if you were being attacked or if your boy toy was trying to scare you. He leaned down and nuzzled his face against your neck. That’s when you saw his hair and caught the familiar smell of Miguel. He smelt of subtle cologne and smoke.

“Miguel? What are you doing?” You turned your head to look at him. He didn’t reply as his hands wandered over you. As much as you hated to admit it, this was kind of hot… His hands were so big, and glided so expertly over your frame, over every curve. They cupped your breasts perfectly, and you let out a quiet moan as he started to knead gently. “M-Mig… let’s take this somewhere more private-” Before you finished your sentence, he scooped you up in those strong arms and carried into a darker hallway.

“This’ll do, cariño.” He growled into your ear. His large body pressed you into the wall, making you unable to escape now. He towered over you, hands on either side of your head to keep you right where he wanted you. You blushed as you looked up at him, a playful smirk on his lips. Miguel leaned down and kissed you passionately, a hand moving to cup your cheek as the other made its way down to your skirt. He pushed the fabric up your thigh, his touch sending shivers through your body. You returned the kiss, your arms reaching around his neck to keep him close.

You gave into him, let him do what he wanted despite every moral instinct in you saying this is wrong. You had always thought you could never be with someone like Miguel, that you two were just too different for each other. But fuck… the way his hands moved… all those ideals of what the perfect guy for you was crumbled away, replaced by the thought that the only one for you was Miguel. He had succeeded in doing exactly what he wished, he wanted you to be only his, and he got that.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt a thick finger rub against your wet panties. Miguel smirked when he felt just how soaked you were, pulling your panties to the side and dragging a finger through your slick folds. You shuddered and let out a moan as his finger grazed your clit.

“Qué dulces sonidos, mami.” Miguel groaned in your ear as he traced circles around your clit, listening to the heavenly moans leaving your mouth. Your hand quickly moved to his waistline, fumbling with his belt haphazardly as you urgently tried to free what you so desperately wanted. He chuckled at your desperation, bringing his hand down to assist you. He slid his belt off, letting you drag his pants and boxers down. You watched as his erection sprang free, face flushed red as the wetness between your thighs increased.

He smirked and pressed against your body more, his cock sliding between your folds, He covered his length in your slick before pressing the tip to your hole. Fuck, he’s big… Almost too big… You thought to yourself. Miguel knew this would be a tight squeeze, but he didn’t care anymore. You cried out as he shoved his erection inside you, stretching your hole so much with barely any time to adjust. He groaned as your walls contracted around him more, and he captured your lips in another kiss to quiet you down a bit.

You moaned into his mouth as he pushed into you further and held one of your legs up, allowing him to slide even deeper. Miguel continued to push in until his hips met yours, giving you time to adjust. That pause only lasted a few seconds, however, before he started thrusting. His pace was slow to begin with, he loved listening to your whines and moans as his length moved in and out of your cunt. He trailed kisses down your jawline and neck, his hands holding onto your waist. He groaned as your walls tightened around him more, his nails digging into the soft skin of your waist as he tries to keep himself composed.

He picked up his speed, fucking you into the bricks. He didn’t want to finish before you, even though he felt practically edged since he first laid eyes on you. He was determined to make you finish first, to prove you needed him just as much as he needed you. You gasped and moaned as his pace quickened, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over. You felt a familiar heat forming in your gut and he rutted into you like a desperate animal, your hands gripping his jacket to keep him close.

“M-Miguel…” You moaned and your grip tightened a bit. You felt so close already, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. He felt it too and tried so hard to keep himself together. His hips stuttered, thrusts losing the pattern he set. Your voice didn’t help, hearing you say his name so cute and sweet just fueled the flames of his lust. Miguel dipped his head down, hiding his face against your neck.

Miguel groaned and grunted as he felt his release approaching. You gasped and moaned as your orgasm ripped through you. He groaned when he felt your walls contract once more, causing him to release inside you as his hips stuttered more. He fucked you slow and deep, pushing his cum in further as it spilled inside you. You rode out your orgasms together, his hands moving down to your ass and kneading gently as you both came down from your highs.

You whimpered a little as the overstimulation, his cock slowing to a stop before he pulled out. He fixed your panties, keeping all that cum inside you, and he let your skirt fall back down around your thighs. Your skin felt so hot, every brush of his fingers sent a wave of heat through your body. You’re in a daze as Miguel fixes his pants.

“My dorm or yours?” His voice brought you out of your daze and you looked up at him.

“Hm? You know we can’t have each other in our dorms.” You chuckled a little.

“Like I care about that.” Miguel smirked a little as he pulled you into a kiss.

————

@theaussiedragon @jukioku @https-gassen @your-antares-universe @camzzn @kaqua @aug-ust69 @zaunsin @honeycomb-biscuits @lookingforgoodthings @lalalalala-888 @bustmybrain @downbadforurmom @m3wh0 @loosecan @qiaipia @ozzmodeus-main @nobloggy-onlyread @beingdeluluisthesolulu @whosking @irmiki @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @jasmineandmatcha @bookmark-anon @sarapaprikas-blog @gaby-3 @they-love-snacks @anakinskywalkerwhore @strrchasm @gecko290 @thel0velykey190

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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sabokunsmalia · 7 months

Text

ʚ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 (𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃) 𝗗𝗢 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 2) ɞ 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: nami, god usopp, trafalgar law, eustass kid, portgas d. ace & sabo 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: nothing much except for pet names, sweet stuff, and gestures 𝖍𝖎 𝖎'𝖒 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆: part two without having someone ask for it because I'm a sucker for law, sabo and kid, and had to expose my thoughts about that to the world!

ʚ cat burglar nami ɞ

↷ berry were nami's greatest treasure. she hoarded the green paper in different hideouts in the girls room, preparing for an ambush from another pirate crew. so, when you joined the straw hat crew, it turned out to be a surprise for the male's and robin when nami came back from a shopping trip and handed you the very first bag from the ones in her hand. she never gave anyone even the tiniest amount of berry, and if they agreed to pay her back, the deal carried high interest. the orange-haired woman might have been a heartwarming person towards people, but she became a greedy one when her treasures were involved. except for you, you could take all the money and she would still follow you with heart eyes.

↷ nami has been part of the straw hat crew for almost decades. she was the first women to experience how unlogical luffy's choices sometimes were, how often zoro lost his way, how many lies usopp could tell in a day and how sanji named his attacks after french meals. so on a particular rough day, when she swallows down the stress so easily after practising for years to not let their dumbness get to her, she decides you need a long bath to relax. and she runs you one without hesitation or even warning you about it. a bubble bath, the smell of fresh rose petals from robin's flower beds spread through the room as your hand was placed in nami's warm palm. leading you towards the stairs, she smiled when you let your towel fall and stepped inside, almost immediately a satisfied groan escaped your throat. and nami, she was extremely satisfied with herself.

↷ most of the things you drank, or the pies you ate and loved so much, were made by nami with the help of sanji. after the man accepted that his chances with the navigator have vanished since you joined the grew, the cook helped nami to create the sweetest desserts for you. and hell, she was desperate to receive the praise from your mouth as the sweet orange juice of the first bite lingered on your tongue. oh, nami loved to watch your face twist in pleasure, her hands underneath her chin and the elbows on her knees as she sat beside you. just the little words about her cooking skills were enough to make her day and paint a smile on her lips, gathering another tad of courage to try a much more difficult recipe. but never forgetting the oranges.

ʚ god usopp ɞ

↷ oh, usopp knows how the adventures sometimes frighten you, and he's there, to hold your hand and always put a smile back on your face. he would make a fool out of himself a thousand times to ensure your mood was lifted again. when you did not get enough sleep because someone from another room was being awake all night and literally screaming through the corridors, usopp pulled the blanket back above your bodies and hugged you tighter while cuddling you back to sleep. when your stomach grumbled and you were especially hungry, usopp would fire up sanji to cook faster because his princess could die. totally overreacting but that was exactly the way he was. especially when it comes to you.

↷ imagine being in those muscular arms for an entire day, and i promise, once there is no fight and no enemies in sight, usopp will have his arms wrapped around you. sometimes around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest. sometimes over your shoulders and pulling you into an entire cuddle session. usopp could not keep his hands away from your irresistible self and beautiful soul. the sniper used any chance given to spend a free minute with you, either on deck, in his little workshop or any other place. life as a pirate was dangerous, life could end the next day or even minute. not being by your side, touching you, feeling your soft skin under his rough fingertips, it would be a great regret for the sniper.

↷ usopp loved to exit his workshop, walk towards the deck and find you on one of the loungers or maybe at the railing, wearing one of his hats or even glasses on top of your head. you were a beautiful sight for usopp before, but with his clothes or things attached to your stunning figure, he could faint each second. you looked so beautiful, and he would find a seat beside you. not one word was exchanged, usopp only kept staring at how pretty you made his things look with just wearing them. after almost too intense staring, the compliments would stumble out. a mess of words, mixed together in different compliments but most likely in a chaos of compliments where you had to find the right sentence together yourself. but you knew what he was like, and the flustered cheeks were enough for you to smile and laugh about the moment.

ʚ trafalgar d. law ɞ

↷ when the polar tang submerged and did not leave enough room to have a minute away from the stupid conversations between shachi and penguin, law invited you to join him in his office. none of the crew members visited him there, only knocking at the door once the ship emerged again, or they have found something special and rare. so, you were the only person allowed in his personal bubble. a room, filled with documents and books about the history and newspapers about a time before the surgeon even decided to become a pirate. he would occasionally glance up from the paragraph he was reading, seeing if you were alright or on the brink of exploding to ask him a question. oh, he could easily read it in the twisted features of your face.

↷ law was a man who worked way too many hours in his life. nights were for calm reading or planning the next steps ahead while the extrovert idiots of his crew were asleep instead singing or playing around. so, the doctor did not sleep enough but he always wanted to make sure that you were getting enough rest. mostly, you fell asleep on the couch in his office, as you were watching how his inked fingers flipped the pages of the book while never tearing his eyes off a particular important paragraph. and when he looked up to glance at you, law almost chuckled at the sweet sight in front of him. instead, he would place the book on the desk, and grabbed one of the large blankets that you adored so much. placing it over your body, he carefully wrapped the soft fabric around your body with a smile, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before taking his seat in his chair again.

↷ this man has a very hard time sharing any romantic interactions in public. he was attractive, there was no need to deny the obvious, and it was too difficult to stay completely calm when a beautiful girl flirted with him. to avoid another argument or certainly the need to answer one of those desperate women, law only had to raise his arm. it might be small but the tattoo on the side of his ring finger revealed the deep romantic relationship he shared with you. your name, in capital letters, written along the length of his digit. a small tattoo with such a large and important meaning. obviously, he would ask you one day if you would do the same for him, and suddenly, the two of you have a special kind of partner ink. it was enough to know for the two of you, even if penguin and shachi always teased their captain about finally committing to someone.

ʚ eustass 'captain' kid ɞ

↷ kid's a rough man, he's always so loud and his voice is always accentuated by that particular grumpy growl coming from his throat. with you, the change was inevitable. not that he wasn't the violent man with the fight addiction and incomparable confidence anymore, but he started to calm down in your presence. mostly at night, when the victoria punk became a quiet place while the crew slept. mostly because there was too much booze drowned. kid drank a couple of glasses himself but his height allowed him to have more than others. staring off into the darkness, you shivered as the deep conversations between kid and you rolled on. and hell, he never thought he would have that kind of situation but he was so quick with shrugging off the warm feathery coat from his shoulders and placing them on yours. underneath the thick fabric, you almost disappeared as your arms slipped through the sleeves and never reached the end. the red-haired captain chuckled at the sight, but he also felt his heart beating faster at the same view.

↷ he always wears his red lipstick, mostly because he cares about looking presentable when it comes to such small things, but since you stepped into his life it had a different meaning for him. always making sure his lips were covered in red, kid's mouth traveled around your throat, along the line of your jaw and over your face. even around your cleavage, stomach and the insides of your thighs, leaving red lipstick marks along your delicate skin. even better, the marks of red accompanied by the blueish leftovers of his deep and rough bites. it was his favorite thing, marking you up to show off that you belonged to someone. oh, and how much he loved to explore your body another night, and find the same marks and color mix still peppered all across your soft skin. reminders of what he has done to you, reminders of a good night with him. reminders of his undying love for you.

↷ kid always loved to work with metal, he had a talent for creating and repairing things. with the devil fruit he ate, it just allowed him to work quicker, and even create much taller statues or weapons. he was dedicated to it, always seated in his workshop at the bench, putting together small pieces with his large hands while using his powers to keep them in place before putting them together. it was almost too beautiful to watch how creative and dedicated he was. but the most loving and beautiful part of his hobby became the fact that he always made a small present for you. a bracelet, to pull you towards him in dangerous situations or when he was just craving your touch so badly. a ring to confess his unyielding love to you, and make small promises at the same time. a beautiful hair clip when you were annoyed by your hair fluttering into your face while fighting. even the small dagger that was meant to protect your life in difficult moments, and was attached to your waist, was made by your beloved kid. the present's weren't always meant to be sweet, but they had an important meaning which was much more sincere.

ʚ portgas d. ace ɞ

↷ let's have an honest moment right here. it's definitely a hat thing for the asl brothers, and ace would be like luffy in that situation. the commander loved it when you wore his hat around the ship, playing with the strings while having a particularly interesting conversation with marco about further plans. obviously it wasn't only the hat he loved to share with you. some days his pearl chain disappeared before he woke up from a long nap, and he found you, wearing it as your belt for the new dress you bought on the last island. the sight was made in heaven for the fire fist. he surely could never get enough of seeing you, wearing his little accessories. one day, he would come back from a mission, bringing you a pearl necklace of your own and making sure they included the two smiley's which were present on his hat. ace wanted the two of you to look as much as partners as possible.

↷ oh, ace was such a touch greedy man. he always had to have you around somehow, when he was on the moby dick. since pops trusted him with many missions, ace was missing from the crew for days, or sometimes even weeks, as he tried to fulfill what pops told him to. so, when ace returned to the whitebeard crew, his first task was to look for you and find out if you were alright. hands always wrapped around your waist, his chin placed in the curve of your neck as he placed butterfly kisses along the side of your throat. hell, he didn't even let you go when pops asked for your opinion on something and took the blame for it afterwards. ace showed his love with physical touch, and he was way too addicted to having his fingertips feel the softness of your delicate skin. he knew it could be over or too late one day, and he wouldn't want to miss a chance.

↷ surely, you never had to confront the freezing cold with ace as your boyfriend. he would make sure to always prepare a fire when the crew settled down at the island. he always lit candles around the shared bedroom, knowing that if one fell to the side, he could easily kill the fire without doubts. and while laying in bed, the blankets not even thick enough to keep the bites of cold away from your shuddering body, all you had to do was scoot closer to your boyfriend's chest. sprawled out hands were placed on your waist, grabbing the flesh of your hips tightly as the warmth spread from his fingertips through your body. the shivers disappeared and the comfort settled in, as ace used his devil fruit power's to raise the temperature underneath the blanket and even of the entire bedroom. he wouldn't want you to get sick, and what better way to have those incredible powers than to use them for your comfort.

ʚ flame emperor sabo ɞ

↷ sabo was born a noble boy, and the choice of his clothing still kind of resembled the nobility of his former life. sure, he hated them. he despised how they treated humankind and put themselves above all. still his clothing remained. and you have never seen sabo in broad daylight, walking around without his gloves. they were his trademark, like the hat that always landed on your head when he was in a particularly difficult fight with an enemy. it was the same as his brothers, but this time, sabo usually carried the hat himself except for in those situations. also, the chief of staff would definitely buy you a pair of gloves yourself. thin fabric, almost see-through and a small bow on the side of your wrists. he would even help you put them on the very first time. so delicate and beautiful, just like the way he saw you. and well, he would buy a couple more pairs along the way or just bring them back with him.

↷ sabo would make sure he would give you a transponder snail. a way to always communicate with him when he was away, gathering important information or just advancing to save luffy from the enemies for another day. the revolutionary army was in possession of one transponder snail but it always stayed in dragon's office. sabo needed to hear your voice once in a while as he traveled across the vast ocean. just a simple greeting or a sweet confession from the other side of the transponder snail was enough to give sabo new strength. and he did not want to talk to five others before finally reaching you and only having limited time for a conversation. he needed you, needed the reassuring glint in your voice when you told him that he was going to be okay and come back home to you. all the words you said, the promises you made, turned sabo into an even stronger person than he has been before.

↷ sabo is a man who loves to spoil you, mostly with time together because he was always so damn busy as the chief of staff. second in command was a blessing, standing just underneath the leader, and having the chance to share his piece of mind. but it cost him time with you. so, sabo certainly tried his best to spend each free minute with you together. mostly, cooking a meal for the two of you, for a sweet candlelight dinner. going to a restaurant was impossible with the bounty which was on his head, knowing how many marines would bath in the glory of taking down the second in command of the revolutionary army. quality time was his kind of showing his love for you, and sabo's ways of cooking such a special dinner, with a glass of expensive wine and just a couple of hours for the two of you together, it was enough and a very pleasant surprise each and every single time.

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wlfpet · 1 year

Text

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

— PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table.

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends.

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean.

And somehow, despite everything, it worked.

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago.

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!”

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed.

“Not interested, sorry.”

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off.

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit.

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?” She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence.

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay. She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way.

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod.

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns.

“-And, and! I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.”

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one.

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed.

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily.

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest.

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery.

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed.

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house.

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off.

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room.

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs.

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

It’s fun being sardonic sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass. She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well. Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell.

–

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right?

Whatever.

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.”

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely.

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing.

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body.

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in.

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall.

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies.

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum. Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up.

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line.

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it.

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.”

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity.

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin.

You jumped.

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage.

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself.

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.”

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed.

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants.

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands.

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness.

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips.

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots.

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.”

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real.

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly.

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more.

She obliged.

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else.

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection.

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly.

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it.

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold.

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow.

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers.

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it.

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again. You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes.

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone.

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile. Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants.

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips.

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint.

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on.

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming.

Yeah.

#tiki writes #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson ff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby tlou smut #abby smut #abby anderson x female reader

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yawnderu · 8 months

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Parenthood — Miguel O'Hara x Reader

I love putting this man in situations.

Content: You kidnap a wombat and force Miguel to play house with you.

fluff, idiots in love, mutual pining.

"You brought a living wombat into my office." Miguel notes bluntly, staring at you dead in the eyes with an unreadable expression as his slow-moving platform lowers.

"I wanted you to see it." You retort, shooting him a playful smile as you put the heavy creature on the floor, trying not to cringe at the pain on your back from carrying it. You crouch down next to it, petting it like it was a domestic pet, and it lets you.

"You could have sent a picture." Miguel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mutters in Spanish, not knowing what to make of the situation. Why was it always up to him to handle all this nonsense? He deals with timelines and the multiverse, what the hell does he know about wombats?

"Why on earth did you think you should bring this to my office?" He asks, jumping down from the platform and staring down at you and the not-so-tiny creature, hands on his hips.

"He was so miserable at the zoo! Now he's smiling and laughing— well, not really, but you get what I mean. He looks happier." You retort, looking up at Miguel to give him a sheepish grin.

"You're telling me you kidnapped a wombat just for this?" He looks between you and the wombat, who is now chasing you around. He's... both impressed and amused now. Impressed because you actually managed to do something like that, and amused because you would do something like that.

"What's his name?" He internally punches himself for falling for the bait. He knows he should have sent you away, maybe even have you arrested for stealing a zoo animal, but... you kidnapped the animal to show it to him, and it's playing with you, looking happy. It's... kind of endearing.

"I was thinking about naming him Miguel O'Hara." You answer teasingly as you lay down on the floor of his office, allowing the wombat to climb on top of you as your hands cover your face, feeling its tiny and gentle scratches on them.

"No— that's my name." Miguel says. This is adorable in the most unhinged sort of way, and he can't help but ignore the way the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly.

"Fine, then he'll be... Miggy." You poke your tongue out at him, sitting up as the wombat stays on your lap, being surprisingly calm. You made him tired by running around and letting it chase you.

"You call me that." He answered with a raised eyebrow, glancing between the wombat and you. He can feel his brain leaking out of his ears.

"Are you too selfish to share a nickname with a wombat?" You grin up at him, enjoying teasing him, just like every single time you're together. His reactions are the best, and he's so funny without even realizing, like a grumpy cat.

Miguel simply rolls his eyes, walking over and crouching down in front of you. He stares at you dead in the eye before disengaging his suit on his hand, reaching down to gently pet the wombat. His hands easily dwarfing the head of the animal, yet he's surprisingly gentle.

"Tell you what— this is my child, I'm its mother, and you'll be the father." Yes, you're trying to play house with the damn animal and Miguel. No, Miguel will not stop you, despite the way he rolls his eyes.

"I didn't sign up for this." He replies, yet he keeps petting the animal, scratching behind its ear. This girl could probably kidnap an entire herd of these if she so pleased... and he'd probably join in on it.

"You're insane." He tells her casually, though his words lack the usual bite they carry. "Actually insane." He loves her.

"You still have a huge crush on me, though." You retort teasingly, ignoring the way he's blankly staring at you, burning a hole through your head. He's probably making your head explode in his imagination.

"I don't." Miguel is a horrible liar and he knows it, yet that doesn't mean he won't defend himself against your horrible— but true accusations.

"You totally do." Your smug tone only makes things worse, forcing Miguel to try his best not to roll his eyes so far he could see his own brain. He simply sighs, ignoring you as he starts petting the wombat's tummy.

"Don't speak when I'm petting the baby. Cállate." It seems Miguel is getting a chance at parenthood with you, even when the "baby" is a 30kg marsupial. The thought of it makes the corners of his mouth slightly tilt up, looking down at the animal to hide it, yet you can still see it. The image of it puts a smile on your own face, yet this time, you keep quiet about it.

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel x reader #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara fluff #fluff #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099

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rippersz · 3 months

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𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙳𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞 + 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝙰𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 (𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜) (SLIGHTLY NSFW):

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

They are busy busy business ladies. Alcina runs the Dimitrescu Vineyard and often encounters all of the complexities that come with owning a company, while Larissa runs Nevermore and deals with her own pile of tasks each day. They’re fiercely independent like that, but even the strongest, tallest, most intelligent businesswomen have to find solace somewhere. In this case, it’s found in each other… and in you.

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa’s top two love languages are Gift Giving and Quality Time. Physical Touch is a close third. She hates not spending time with both of you and does whatever she can to free up her schedule. It’s difficult, but she manages because you two are worth it. And date nights, vacations, even little trips to town are the things that keep her happy and smiling. She’s always the first to suggest you all go somewhere, and even if you or Alcina are especially tired, you fall prey to her big glittering blue eyes. As soon as her face falls and she starts to pout, Alcina makes a show of covering your eyes and her own with her hands.

“Oh draga (darling in Romanian) don’t look now. She’ll tempt us. Drag us off to Hell. She’s utterly insatiable.” And you’ll giggle while Larissa’s expression falls sharp and her eyebrow ticks up. “Hell? You don’t think I’m an angel?” And Alcina can only roll her eyes before pushing you off to grab your jersey while she swipes an arm around Larissa’s waist and brings her into a kiss. “You are an angel. Sometimes.” “And other times?” They both grin. “The most wicked devil I know.”

Her gifts are also always from the heart. Very sentimental, like a well-written card, or a niche thing from the Jericho antique shop that she thinks you’d like. For Alcina, it could be a very ornate wine opener, and for you it could be an old broach or a locket big enough to put a picture of your family in.

ʚ♡ɞ Alcina’s top two love languages are Gift Giving and Physical Touch. Acts of Service is a close third. The truth is, she has a lot of money. A lot. Like a lot. And she is eager to show it off and spoil you two. Now Larissa is just as proud a woman, and enjoys her freedom and independence to pick out her own wardrobe, but Alcina can’t help herself. Larissa returned home one time and Alcina instantly rushed in to wrap a beautiful Parisian fur coat around her shoulders. It was the perfect size, the perfect length. Larissa wears it every winter, even if she told Alcina that she didn’t have to. It came with matching gloves, but Larissa slips those onto your hands so you two can match when you go out together. And as for yourself, her special little darling, she’ll seek out the things you’ve mentioned (even in very brief passing) that you liked. Oh that cute little trinket you saw in an Instagram advertisement? Suddenly it’s on the kitchen island waiting for you with a little note from ‘Yours, ~ A. D.’ - She signs her initials like that every time. You and Larissa keep them in a hidden box. It’s nearly full.

And I don’t think it really comes as a surprise when I say Alcina is a big admirer of physical touch with her loved ones. She is fiercely protective and vain, so she adores showing you off as the two women on her arm, but if someone stares for a little two long, her gaze burns her through sunglasses. The bright gold always startles normies. So this usually means she walks in the middle of you two whenever you’re out, with both of you on each arm. But if Larissa’s the one who is treating you all, she walks in the middle and struts around proudly.

ʚ♡ɞ You wanted to do it one time, just to see what it was like, and you looked like a young woman with your lesbian mothers. It was very embarrassing. They teased you HEAVILY. Every shop you went into, it was always “Oh what about this sweetheart? Do you want this for your room? Right next to your diploma?” Or “Oh this frame would be perfect. We could put it with your school pictures love, what do you think?” - You got so frustrated and flustered that you walked right off and it took them 5 minutes to realize you had literally walked away further down the street. Alcina scented you out and came to find you in a perfume store, trying to hide your smell. When they got there, you glared until they agreed they’d never do it again (but sometimes it slips in when they’re feeling wicked).

ʚ♡ɞ Now of course that does lead to power dynamics- which are very much a thing in this relationship. When it comes to Alcina Dimitrescu’s involvement, there will always be power dynamics. She is very not normal about her control issues, but that’s okay. You love her anyway. And Larissa learns to accept that it is both a blessing and a curse. She has to spend a lot of her own days in control, but it’s not necessarily by choice all the time. Before you two, she was very lonely and had to compensate with work, but now that she is with you, she has the opportunity to relinquish some of the control and responsibility that comes with the job. Thank goodness Alcina is all too eager to pick up the slack.

ʚ♡ɞ In terms of personality dominance, those two definitely take the cake. It is, to an extent, a good cop bad cop dynamic, but they do agree on a lot of things. Like they agree you’re adorable. And beautiful and handsome. And that they want you. In many more ways than one. And also they agree that giving you your privacy is just as important as having their own. The last thing they want to do, especially Alcina, is to infantilize you. In the beginning, Larissa had to sit Alcina down for a very difficult discussion to explain her own behavior to herself. She pointed out that Alcina sort of suffocated you a bit, which was true. She was quite controlling—always wanting to be by your side, always preparing you for the worst. CLEARLY she has some trauma, but you get through it. Alcina is eternally grateful that Larissa felt confident enough to speak to her. Past partners have been forced into submissive silence by their own fear because Alcina is such a strong force of a woman. She is very loving, but can be harsh.

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa, on the other hand, is a doting lover. She texts your group chat every free second she gets. Sends you a picture of her meal in the privacy of her office to thank you for making lunch. You always respond with hearts or suggest the three of you call while you go about your lunch hour. She suggested you three try syncing up the time so you could see each other and spend a bit more time together - seeing as you all get home rather late sometimes. Alcina joins the call a bit later but greets you with warm hellos and asks how her “Sweet girls” are doing. Larissa is also the type to buy flowers. She adores them. Some people think it’s silly because they’ll just die if not taken care of, but she doesn’t think so. She comes home with bouquets in hand to make up for a stressful week or a particular stretch of time in which you three can’t see each other often. If Alcina goes away on a business trip, she’ll welcome her back with black roses and so many red kisses that the poor woman almost falls over. If you’re stumbling through the door at midnight after a long day doing whatever it is you do (I’m thinking business analyst or perhaps even owning your own shop), then she waits up and gives you a little single rainbow rose still in the plastic because she knows you like the novelty of it. Oh and kisses too of course.

ʚ♡ɞ That being said, you’re sort of the morally grey cop in the cop dynamic. Rarely do any of you do something to truly piss each other off or upset each other, but it does happen. If you somehow upset Alcina, Larissa sits you down for a chat while Alcina rants in the background. Alci is very passionate and does have a temper, but for all of her bluster and bark, a quick “Alcina, sit” from Larissa has her growling, rubbing her temples, and taking a seat in the living room with you two. From that point on, it’s only a matter of discussion. Alcina has a habit of keeping her feelings to herself until she blows up, but Larissa is very preemptive. She KNOWS such habits amongst you all could possibly ruin your relationship, so she tries her hardest to keep the peace. You and Alcina argue, but Larissa talks you through it until the calm is restored.

ʚ♡ɞ If they piss you off or upset you, you have a very difficult time talking to them about it. You’re a soft-hearted person for them and the last thing you want is to cause a rift, but if you don’t come to them about it first, they WILL find out. Your two lovers are extremely intelligent and very observant. Alcina can tell something is off by the slightest falter in your beating heart and Larissa can tell something is off if you speak a single word in a different tone. To them, you are an open book. And they know that they’re intimidating at times. Larissa is a sweetheart, yes, but her irritation is brutal. And Alcina is… Alcina. So it can be (understandably) quite hard. That’s why you’ve taken to texting them before they get home, asking them to chat in the living room or the bedroom. And if not that, then you speak to them separately. You go to their offices, sit and sort it out as best you can, and then the three of you regroup later. It’s the healthiest option…… but it doesn’t always work. You can get very insecure being with these two literal otherworldly women, so sometimes you just shut down instead. Hide within your thoughts and occupy yourself until you can’t anymore. It happened once where you were so upset and anxious that you stayed at your office and fell asleep. Larissa and Alcina were shit scared. They went searching for you there of course, and Alcina carried you to the car before Larissa drove you three home. It was a stressful experience but after you all talked it out in the morning, you promised to try and be more open - but only if they did the same.

ʚ♡ɞ HOWEVER, if you two somehow manage to piss off or upset Larissa Weems, it is Hell for you both. All three of you have a distinct bond that can’t be broken even with the sharpest of scissors. You’re all linked in some individual way, and it’s lovely, but it also means that you’re very soft on each other. And you and Alcina have a silent understanding that although Larissa can take care of herself, she is also highly deserving of all of the protection and love you give her. Meaning you don’t want to add to her stress. But when you do—she is a slow simmering ball of emotions. She may be loud at Nevermore when faced with Wednesday, but when it comes to her lovers, she just gets a bit disappointed. And that is something you and Alcina can’t handle. So when that happens, and she isn’t the one to put it back together or demand you all sit down and talk, that means you and Alci have to do the heavy lifting. So you do. Alcina pours glasses of wine, you put on some music, and the three of you sit in silence either working on your laptops or indulging in some hobbies until Larissa finally speaks up. She just needs to be in your presence, to recognize your quiet understanding that something is wrong, before she really gets into it. And after that, you of course make it a point to never repeat whatever it is you did to make her upset. And Alcina pulls her into her arms while you hug her from the back because you know Larissa appreciates the attention, the affection, and the warmth. Then you kiss. A lot. A lot a lot. Smooch smooch smooch muah muah muah.

ʚ♡ɞ When you call Larissa, she answers with a “Hello, darling” because she always checks the caller ID before picking up.

ʚ♡ɞ When you call Alcina, she answers with an “Alcina speaking.” because she never checks the caller ID before picking up.

ʚ♡ɞ You and Larissa called her once in the past and she answered with her usual, hard-toned greeting. When you and Larissa mocked her with a high-pitched “aLciNa sPeaKing”, she hung up and blocked your number for five minutes. Sometimes, you’re still tempted to do it.

ʚ♡ɞ You steal their perfumes and shampoos. One time, Alcina used Larissa’s conditioner and ever since, Larissa asks her if she should order two bottles of her hair care instead of one. Alcina just rolls her eyes and reaches out to grab her. Larissa goes scurrying away, letting out a yelp and a laugh.

When they cuddle you and smell their products, they only grin and pull you closer. They want you to share their things. And also you’re just too lazy to keep your own stocked.

ʚ♡ɞ Your kisses with Larissa, just you two, are sweet and slow. They last a long time and usually lead to wandering hands and a lot of lipstick marks. Larissa happily leaves marks and hickies on you, but the three of you understand that she can’t have the same. If someone at her job saw that, they’d probably complain. But below the clothes, she’s painted to high heaven. Alcina does, after all, have a very voracious appetite. She spends a lot of time kissing and marking because it soothes the dragon in her. And Larissa is just the same when it comes to you specifically. The marks never take to Alcina’s skin, so Rissa usually uses her teeth and tries to leave marks anyway. But on you, she takes full advantage. Teases you with hickies and bites until you’re begging her to move. To treat you. It’s unfortunate then that she’s just so busy and has to return to work and absolutely must leave you high and dry until you’re nearly crawling all over her when she returns home later.

ʚ♡ɞ Alcina’s kisses, on the other hand, are always mean and rough. She pushes your faces together, grabs your hair, clutches your jaw in one large hand. She’s eager to overpower - it’s just in her nature. And she’s not scared to lean down and reach you, pull you up into her arms, and shove you against a wall. She uses her teeth to nip, and her tongue to fill your mouth and take you completely. Safe to say, she never leaves her kisses without you stumbling away–breathless and smiley. And there’s no escaping her until she’s done with you. Never ever. You will only push away from her when she wants you to. And you rarely want to of course, but when you’re busy and late to a meeting, you’re under a time crunch.

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa and Alcina kissing, though… whew. Dear god, whew. Dear LORD, whew. Larissa’s hands go sliding around Alcina’s waist and she has to lean up on the tips of her toes to meet Alcina halfway. And when they get there, they smile first before kissing roughly. Alcina knows not to put her hands in Larissa’s perfect hair, so she settles for gripping the back of her neck and pulling her close. Close close close until Larissa lets out a squeak and Alcina has to lean and pick her up bridal-style so they both don’t go tumbling to the ground. It doesn’t happen often, but when she does, Larissa can only giggle giddy and happy. She doesn’t often feel petite and girlish, but Alcina has a way of making her feel like a woman worth caring for. You do too, of course, but it’s different. Not any less or any better, just different. And they kiss until they both run out of breath and Larissa pushes Alcina away. The taller woman grumbles and steals another kiss before they finally go their separate ways.

ʚ♡ɞ There’s so much more to this little poly relationship. From kinks to flaws to business work and all that. Let me know if you wanna see more <3

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I love them :3 Yes I doooooo - Rip x

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

Tags: @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet @weemssapphic @the-bearr @amateurwritescm

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x larissa weems #alrissa #alcina dimitrescu x reader x larissa weems #re8 alcina dimitrescu #wednesday larissa weems #wlw fic #wlw fiction

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months

Note

Mcyt with an s/o who's a voice acter for video game characters? They mostly do voice characters in horror games n stuff(like until dawn, where the characters are also modeled after the voice after if I remember correctly)

I just think their faces would be hilarious if the choice they make in the game ends up with y/n getting killed lol

OH MY GOD YESSSSS ; also tried to use different games and not the same for everyone but I'm not the heaviest story game gamer LMFAO ; also don't talk about how timeliness wouldn't make sense shhhhhh

MCYT ; video game voice actor

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language & fictional violence and death/murder

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

somehow the topic of mc story mode came up and how you actually voice acted a few characters + one of the Jessie variants (whichever you picked as a kid 🙏)

"WHAT? WHY DIDNT I KNOW ABOUT THIS?"

"I mean I was like, fourteen. I don't think I even knew you yet"

"absolute betrayal"

he literally speeds to his office, downloads the first game and proceeds to stream for three hours playing it (he selects whichever Jessie you voiced of course)

"OH MY GOD THAT IS MY PARTNER, HOLY SHIT, LISTEN TO THEIR BABY VOICE!"

the tweets never end

"spot the difference" and its an old/new pic of you compared to jessie

💀💀💀💀

once he gets to the save Petra or Lukas scene he straight up pauses and playfully yells at you like you made the game?? 💀🙏

he dies so many times it's not even funny

love him tho

TUBBO

red dead redemption two 💀

forget the qsmp, once he finally downloads the game its all he's playing for a straight week

again, how the hell did he not know about this??

it was only 2018??

you voice a few of the townsfolk and a few of the supporting characters

everytime he hears your baby voice he's like "omg you sounded like that??" obviously he's been friends w you for a while so he doesn't notice voice changes

as an Easter egg, the player can actually kill one of the random townsfolk solely for being annoying with no consequences

it's modeled after you as well 💀💀💀

the npc just shouts annoying shit and doesn't shut up and is encouraged to kill the kid

tubbo kills the kid and unlocks the secret achievement

RANBOO

Detroit become human

the moment he finds out you voiced a minor character he speedruns trying to find you

the character is also modeled after you, so he's begging chat to keep an eye out for you too

you're basically just some very friendly person trying to help Connor but no matter what route he/the player takes, you wind up dead for the angst

ouuuu the heartbreak, the angst

if it's by being shot, betrayed, or committing your own death, you're gone bro

"y/n why the fuck does your character die in the worst ways possible?"

you shrug

"that genuinley hurt my feelings. I don't wanna play this anymore"

"you didn't get to Connors possible death scene yet!"

"WHAT?"

FREDDIE BADLINU

TLOU 2 (I don't support the makers zionist views, I just thought this fit. free Palestine and do your daily clicks)

was literally cheering you on the whole time when you were bts for voice acting your character

you had to take like scream classes to upgrade your screaming abilities lmao

you gave the voice to a character modeled after you, an infected teen who runs into ellie on her way through the game

she/the player is forced to put you down because you're not immune

he plays through the game and turns to you like "dude do I actually have to kill you to progress?"

you just nod

"I'm sorry, I didn't wanna do this"

THE DESPERATE SCREAMING GOT HIM

literally looked at you in horror

"...are you okay?"

you smile and nod

NIKI NIHACHU

life is strange

mf you would've been like 16?? damn get ur bag, okay

she plays through and you va (whoever you choose) and everytime she hears your voice she smiles

"omg that's my partner! that's y/n, you guys!! :D"

the cutest

literallt cries at the end of the game

"y/n, were you in life is strange two?"

"why?"

"Cause I wanna play it but I don't wanna get my hopes up about you being there"

"just play it, just play it. trust me"

ALEX QUACKITY

twdg s4

basically clem/the player gets really close to your character and ends up having to kill them after they turn into a walker

the angst, the heartbreak

he's never done a full let's play / game play like that before and especially with a full game series

when he got to s4 and heard you for the first time he literally started jumping around and screaming

now when you die... it's jumping and screaming alright (in anger and sadness)

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I PLAYED ALL THOSE GAMES JUST FOR YOU TO DIE?"

"I mean there's an option to prevent me turning, you're just a dumbass"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IM RESTARTING"

FOOLISH GAMERS

dead by daylight

you va'd multiple characters/killers

and the devs wanted to show appreciation by giving you your own playable character with your natural voice

when foolish finds out, he gets tubbo, quackity, tina & niki in a call to play dbd + stream for like 6 hours

loves seeing all the death animations you'd be given and all your voicelines

"OH MY GOD! guys this is my partner, they're so instantly talented at voice acting, holy shit!"

"we get it foolish, you love y/n"

"It's more than love, quackity, it's an obsession"

"my brother in christ, calm down"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #alex quackity x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #mcyt x gn reader #they/them reader

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ethrlst · 2 months

Text

abu dhabi gp ‘23

⌞ sypnosis⌝ - a sport dominated by men will never rewrite it’s rules for a woman. luck was on your side as well as your team when you first joined f1 as it’s first ever woman racer. how long would it take until your luck runs out?

⌞ tags! ⌝ - angst! teammatelewis! angry!totowolff! ogcharacter! cursewords! f1! mercedesdriver!character! y/n as yves!

⌞ a/n ⌝ - hii! i finally found the courage to make an account where i could comfortably upload my works about f1 or anything that inspires me in general lol. i do hope you enjoy my first fic! the inspiration for this was me watching brazil gp 2019, whilst eating dinner then it reminded me of lana’s song. also, y/n is named as yves.

- norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

‘don’t do this to me please! guys, i’m begging.’ was what yves radio engineer hears when he had given the order to let lewis overpass her and take p1. he understood that pain, his driver yves is currently going through, was not going to be a good addition after the countless fights she went through in every lap to stick with the plan, win p1. she kept her word, no matter what order given to her radio was, how long the gap is between her and the next driver she’s going to overtake, or the risk of losing her place if she pitted in; she managed to come out on top. so why doesn’t it make sense to her? she had trusted each and every instructions from her race engineer and from her team principal, toto, who before race had told her to win.

────────────────────────

‘i need you to win, yves. do you understand? i need you to be on that podium.’, toto firmly repeats to her before she nods, ‘yes, understood.’

‘you’ve raced this track countless of times, lewis. i trust you know what to do?’, toto looks at lewis with a small knowing smirk, then hearing a short response from the man, ‘of course.’

‘so it’s clear? both of my racers podium, or i won’t have it.’, he jokes to the two drivers who can be heard laughing. yves smiles to herself, thinking about winning always puts a cheeky grin on her face. it was clear and apprehended, plan a was for both her and lewis to place no lower than p3, regardless who places p1 like toto wolff himself stated. yet, if things doesn’t play out the way they planned and designed it to be, one of them has to win at least. feeling a pair of eyes to her left, her thoughts were interrupted with lewis across the table, gazing at her with gentle but knowing eyes; which yves is now familiar with, we got this.

───────────────────────

with 2 laps left, she keeps her spot as leader before pressing the button to her radio. ‘i don’t understand, marcus. please please plea-s—…. what do you mean i have to give up my place?’. on the other side, back in the garage, marcus with one side of his headphone out from the ear, listens to toto give him the order to make yves switch positions with lewis. he furrows his eyebrows, but nevertheless lets his driver know of the news. he could hear her cries of confusion exactly the moment he closed his radio. ’why! i don’t understa—an—d. why would he say that? i-i mean it’s not part of the plan.. no?’. slowing her pace, finally letting lewis pass her, she hears her radio go off with the quick ‘it’s part of the plan. it was toto’s orders. confirm if you understand.’ not responding, she hears him follow up with, ‘good job, yves. you just have to guard this position from verstappen who is -6.18 behind you, one more lap to go and you are finished!’.

oh! and how suprising is that! leader of the laps for almost half of the race, the mercedes driver yves is slowing down for her teammate lewis hamilton and seems to be switching positions. isn’t that just one hell of a plot twist, everybody! i guess their original plan is now disregarded as lewis makes a beautiful overtake to his teammate, yves for the final lap!

now leading the final lap of the race with his teammate -1.18 behind him, lewis presses his radio button before asking his engineer, ‘mate, i need an explanation. this is not part of the plan, right?’. he receives a response shortly from bono after, ‘it is, lewis. toto declared you p1 loud and clear before the race.’ he lets out a breath, checking his mirrors to see yves’ car behind him exactly like they were instructed it to be. he knew what this meant to her, how this could affect the supporters, he understood that maybe, no, precisely after this race, changes are bound to happen to the dynamics of not only the team, but between them as well. years of experience in the sport has given lewis the opportunity of gaining skills and to unleash his true potential as a driver, that’s the reason why he is now a 7th time world champion. but he also recognized the importance of sportsmanship, learned how to be a better teammate; from the list of drivers in the grid, he knew that the most. roars of their engines, exhaustion from the race and continuous radio updates from bono had completely overwhelmed lewis, but despite so, his thoughts were certain.

‘what is he doing?! what the hell!’, confused, yves swerves to lewis’ right side of the car before looking at him. now side to side, both cars hear toto’s voice on their radios reminding them to keep their original positions, ‘no! no! that was dangerous, the both of you! lewis overtake now!’.

what a sight! the two mercedes are now driving side by side as they take their final turns towards the checkered flag! is this lewis finally grasping his 8th world championship title? or is it going to be yves’ first from her home race?

she finally understood what lewis was trying to do, for a split second she imagined it: her dream, the celebration, the overwhelming feeling of joy, the trophy and the title. the title. brimming tears that she has been battling from falling last 2 laps ago, finally touched her cheeks as she slowly but firmly stepped the brakes to her car, allowing lewis to cross the line first.

phenomenal that was for the mercedes team! an incredible, yet brave move from yves as she hit her breaks final second from the line. ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a beautiful 1-2 from mercedes! max verstappen coming in third and hamilton, finally, finally claiming his 8th world championship title in abu dhabi! what a race!

maneuvering the car back to her station like she was told by her engineer, she stops and finally take her helmet, balaclava and gloves off. resting her head on her steering wheel, she weeps to herself. hopelessness enveloping her whole body, she softly wails and grips her hair, eventually expressing the pain she endured the entire race. fireworks, engine sounds, news/journalists people asking questions and the cheers and chants of congratulations for lewis was all she could hear. she fears of looking pathetic, but it never came across her that feeling it was worse. hurriedly getting out of his car and rushing to take his gear off before avoiding as much people as he could, lewis runs off to her garage. he finds her in the exact position as he thought before he crouches, cradle her head on his hand and brushing her hair away from her face. softly, he calls out her name. feeling wet tears on his thumb, he expected to see teary sad eyes from the girl; taking a deep breath, what he sees suprises him the moment she turns her head towards lewis. a pair of crying angry eyes meets his. just like his races, he had predicted the consequences alongside of this win was, he just wasn’t prepared for it to be this soon.

fin.

#lewis hamilton #mercedes amg f1 #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton au #angst

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alexa-fika · 2 months

Note

Hi!! I was the 👻 anon :3

Ok so I have another request a whitebeard pirates x child reader again

So the whitebeard pirates arrived at a spooky island which is dark and gloom like Mohawk island (forgor the name)

So they find reader sleeping with a small teddy bear but when they got close the teddy bear is alive and trying to kill them because the teddy (Name Mr stitchy) is protective over reader because Mr stitchy See's them as family and leader

The reader wakes up but instead of stopping Mr stitchy they just watch because they hate pirates and pirates we're the reason why they are stranded in the island

But then whitebeard appears then starts hurting Mr stitchy making reader to beg and cry to stop hurting their family

So in the end whitebeard coax reader to coming with them

Also can you base Mr stitchy off this? This idea has been in my mind lol

Sorry if this was long :p I'll make the next one shorter :D

Stuffy Meetings (Whitebeard pirates x f!child!reader)

A/N HERE WE GO I KNOW I SAID NOTHING WAS COMING BUT IT CAME AND WHEN I SAW IT WAS YOUR BDAY I HURRIED IT UP. HAPPY BIRTHDAY . Ngl I thought this was a flop but it may be a cook?? Also don’t worry about request ever being long : ) I hope you have a nice bday. In one of the scene I kept thinking about this photo so just so we share the vizion 🕴🏼

Here Reader is replaced by Dokucha which means Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Man, this place is gloomy,” Thatch mutters

“Why did we stop here again?” Ace questioned, wincing as he stepped into what looked like a pile of bones

“We were running down on supplies; this was the closest Island on the way,” Izou replies

“What can we possibly fin- is that a kid?” Ace questions, pausing right in front of the sleeping child

“She got a creepy teddy too; look at that thing; it’s all stitched up; look, the head doesn’t even fit the body,” he said, poking at the plushie

Mr.Stichy moves around at the sudden contact, his eyes flying open as he begins to take in what is happening around him and the danger Dokucha could be in; he is quick to lunge at the man, branding twin sickles

“Man, what is that thing? Is it a haint!?” Thach yells, taking out his dual blades and parring against the attacher

“What the hell?!” Ace exclaims, looking at the odd newcomer

“Get the hell away from her,” the bear growls, pushing Thatch back with his own weapons

“The hell you talking about, you overgrown plushy,” Thatch said, stumbling back

Dokucha rubs their eyes, slowly waking up at the chaos unfurling. She watched how the bear evaded Thatch’s attacks and lunged for him once again, not making any movement to stop or call back the bear.

“Who’s this kid?” Ace asks while keeping a close eye on the stuffed bear

“Not important, the bear’s clearly dangerous,” Thatch shouted back and lunged for the bear, attacking again

“That bear is quick.” Ace comments, igniting his flames and jumping into the fray

“You want to go?!”

Mr.Stichy narrows his eyes, glaring at the flame man

“You’re no match for us!” the man declared while firing off blasts of flames at the bear. At the same time, Izou aimed his way to shoot down the bear

“STOP!” Dokucha screams, running in front of the bear just as Ace was about to make contact. In just a second, as Dokucha stood in front of him, arms stretched to protect him, Mr. Stichy stood behind her glaring at Ace, who had managed to stop, as he pointed his weapons at him

“What?” both of them say at the same time, looking at the screaming girl

“What the hells is going on?” Thatch says

“Don’t hurt him!”

“Him?” Ace said, stopping his attack

“This thing?. Do you mean to tell me you’re attached to this?” Thatch said in a mocking voice

“He’s all I have left,” they cry

“Where are your parents? Izou questions, putting his guns away and approaching the child, ignoring the way Me. Stichy kept his sickles pointed their way, his red eye ominously digging into them

“They died. It’s only Stichy and me now.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Izou sympathizes while still keeping an eye on the bear as Ace and Thatch glance at each other

“We should take her to the Pops.”

“Are you sure? That bear looks really creepy; I wouldn’t trust it.” Thatch says

“She would still be alone if we let her go; I agree with Izou; we should take her,” Ace says

“ She’s not going with the likes of you.” He growls

“She shouldn’t be on her own,” Ace argues while Thatch puts his sword back into its sheath

“It would be cruel not to,” Izou adds

“Like hell, I will let you take her!”

“Listen, I understand we just met; I know you are wary of us, I understand that, and the decision is ultimately yours, but think about her, do you really think she will be able to survive here alone? Even if she does, do you think she will be happy?” Izou questioned

Stichy stills at that, glancing at the trembling child in front of him and slowly lowering his sickles

“How do I know you are not trying to use her?”

“You don’t, you just have to trust us.” Piped in Thatch

He took one last glance at the child and back at them and back to Dokucha

“Do you want to go?” He questions lowly

She looks at the men in front of her and back at the bear and nods her head

“I want to go with you,” she said, grasping his paws

“Alright,” he said, giving jn

“Don’t worry, little one, we’ll take care of you,” Izou reassures while walking forward to pick her up

She wrapped one hand around him

Instinctively not letting go of Stichy’s hand as they walk to the ship

Izou smiled reassuringly at her while walking to the ship as Thatch and Ace walked a little ways ahead

“This kid’s got no one,” Thatch said, shaking his head

“That’s why we’ll take care of her,” Ace replied while heading for the ship

“This is Whitebeard, but we call him Pops,” Ace said pointing at said Captain

She flinched, looking up, up, up until she was finally able to meet his eyes, tightening his grip on Stichy, who gave her hand a squeeze in silent comfort

Whitebeard was quiet for a few seconds before crouching down next to her

“What’s your name?” He asked her

“Dokucha”

“Dokucha?…” he paused before nodding. “A nice name,” he said while smiling

“Hey, Pops, can we keep her?” Ace questioned

“Oh, now, who’s looking to adopt a child?” Thatch joked as he walked up to them

“Shut up; I want a little sister; I know you guys do too. Don’t deny it.”

“I think we should let her stay,” Izou says, joining the conversation

“Why do you want me to stay so much?” she questions, grasping Stichy’s hand tighter

“You’re alone; that’s no way to be. Especially at this early of an age,” Whitebeard said

“Yeah, plus you’ve got no other family, so we’ll take care of you as such,” Ace explained while Thatch remained silent

“Family?” She questioned

“You’ll be my family?” She mumbled tears growing on her eyes, tears that she is quick to wipe away

She glanced at Stichy, who stood next to her

“But I can’t leave without Mr.Stichy.”

“Who said he would be staying behind?” stated Whitebeard

“H-He can stay?”

“I wouldn’t make you leave you’re only family behind,” He said while picking her up.

“Oh god, Pops, you’re gonna spoil her rotten,” Thatch complains as ace, and izou can’t help but laugh.

Okay I think I like it, I just think I rushed some of the areas but other than that I like how it turned out

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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skipper1331 · 9 months

Text

Lost and found // Patri Guijarro

a/n: based off this request. Please enjoy :D

"Shit!" looking though your bag, you frantically searched for your keys. "Shit, shit, shit" You've looked in every opening of your bag but just couldn't find it. Everything important was on your bunch of keys, car keys, keys to your apartment, for the garage, keys for your childhood home, everything. "¿Qué pasa?" your favorite spaniard asked as she walked to you after seeing your stressed out face. She placed her hand on your back, an innocent act to calm you down. "My keys! I don‘t where they are!" Defeated you sat down, arms crossed. Where had you put them? "Why are you so stressed? Here, there they are" Patri wiggled with them in front of your face, grinning.

"Ah! What? How?"

"Maybe you should check your jacket the next time" the midfielder whispered in your ear, answering your question. She pressed her lips against your temple for a quick peck before she walked back to her cubby, Mapi and Alexia sharing a look.

"Fucking hell" you grumbled, looking for your phone. You could‘ve sworn you had it a second ago. You searched in the kitchen, your bedroom, the bathroom, everywhere. The only phone you found was Patris which was in the kitchen. As you entered the living room the spaniard sat on the couch, some movie playing in the backround. Your hands rummaged around on the couch, desperately looking for your phone. "What‘re you looking for?"

"My phone" you whined, turning around every cushion while the midfielder started to laugh. "Here," she gave you your phone which she had in her hands the whole time. How did you not notice? "I asked you if I could play my game on your phone and then you gave it to me"

Embarassed, you slapped your hands on your face, hidding behind them. How could you forget that? Patri was obsessed with that one game you had on your phone, she always asked if she could play and you never say no. "Don‘t hide that beautiful face of yours" her hands placed themselves on your hips, pulling you down so you sat on her lap.

The two of you weren‘t together but also not just friends, there had been a few sneaky, stolen kisses yet nothing more. "You can‘t keep losing your stuff, one day you‘ll get lost yourself" she whispered, her thumb drawing circles on your hip.

"I‘m trying" you mumbled as your head fell on her shoulder.

"But I had it the whole time" Patri told Pina, Mapi and Alexia in their native language. She found it too amusing how you dramatically looked for your phone yesterday. The three spaniards laughed at the story. "maybe you should help her look again" Pina stated as you rummaged through your bag.

"No! No, no, no" full of worry, you searched for your shin pads, you needed them.

"Wanna bet in 5 seconds Patri finds what she’s looking for?" Mapi challegened her team mates "we know you would win, look" la reina replied, nodding her head in your direction.

"They‘re made for each other, don‘t you think?" the young striker asked. Mapi with a mischief smile on her face looked at Alexia, her patner in crime, before she answered, "Sí"

"Not again!" you were angry and annoyed. No, this time it wasn‘t your phone what you‘re looking for nor your keys or any football related stuff, you‘re missing your headphones.

You unpacked every single thing out of your bag - nothing.

You looked in your jacket pockets - nothing. Trouser pocket - nothing. (They wouldn’t have fit in there but you looked there anyways)

Where could they be?!

"Cariño, what‘re looking for this time?" she smiled sympathetically at you. Sometimes she thought you would lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body. "My headphones!"

She took a step towards you, her hands went around your neck, not touching it though, but the headphones that were around it. She pulled them up, placing them on your ears. "There you go" she whispered, her hands now resting at your neck. "Thank you" you gazed in her eyes, the most beautiful you had ever seen.

"They would kiss each other If they weren‘t in the locker room" Mapi stated.

"They‘re clearly in love" Pina chipped in.

"I can only agree" said Alexia.

Please pick up, please pick up

"Y/n?" the sleepy voice of Patri rasped through the phone "Patri!"

"Do you know what time it is? It‘s 3am!"

"I‘m sorry, okay? But i- i don‘t know where I am and my phone will die soon" within in seconds the spaniard was wide awake, already out of bed. "What?!"

"I’m lost. Please can you get me?"

"What do you see?"

You told her about your surroundings - she knew where you were. Immediately, she ran to her car. Why the fuck would you be outside at 3 in the morning? Alone! She was furios. She ignored the speed limit, there was hardly anyone on the streets at that time anyway. Her only concern: you. How could you be so stupid and go out at that late at night. It‘s dark and your sense of direction was as good as Mapis signing. Horrible.

You sat on a bench, waiting for Patri, there was barely light, the only one came from the moon. When a car pulled up, you turned around but didn't get up. A few cars had already passed you, none of them the girl you‘re waiting for.

The car stopped abruptly as she drove onto the path which lead to you. An angry Patri stormed out of the car towards you. "Are you crazy?!" the spaniard shouted as she walked to you, "What were you thinking?" The girl was angry, more than angry. You opened your mouth to explain but- "Don‘t! Get in the car" crushed, you looked at her but followed her command, your head hung low, your eyes fixed on the floor. That was until you realized someting "no, please, no" you whispered, your hands went in all your pockets - no keys. "Don‘t you dare to say you‘ve lost your keys" Patri said as she saw how your hands went in every pocket.

"I haven‘t lost them, they‘re at home"

"Dios mío, Y/n! One time, one time where you don‘t lose your stuff!"

"It‘s not my fault!" Now, you were getting upset. You get that she was mad at you because you woke her up and she had to drive here but there was no need to yell at you for being forgetful - you weren‘t forgetful per se you just lose your stuff and don‘t know where it was. "Who‘s fault is it then? Hm?"

"Mapi‘s!"

"¿Que?"

Now, the spaniard was confused. Why - How could it be Mapis fault? "If she hadn‘t said that stuff, i would be in bed!"

"You lose your stuff quite often huh?" the spanish defender asked as she took a seat beside you. "And Patri always knows where it is" you looked at her confused, what was she talking about? "Kinda like soulmates, don‘t you think?" she slipped her arm over your shoulders "you‘re in love with her, aren‘t you?"

"What?"

"And she‘s in love with you" she was smiling at you but you couldn‘t tell If it was a nice one or the smiles where after that blackmail would come. "It‘s cute, you know, everyone knows you’re made for each other."

"What are you talking about?"

"Gosh! You‘re always on my mind! And today was no difference but that Mapis words haunted me. That I‘m in love with you and that you’re in love with me, that we‘re soulmates because I always lose my stuff and you find it," you couldn’t stop talking, everything bubbled out of you, "I- i couldn‘t sleep so i went for a run or a walk - i don‘t know and then I got lost. I didn‘t know who to call so I called you. Look, I know you’re mad and I know it‘s three in the morning but please stop yelling at me." you were walking up and down, trying to catch your breath.

"Are you? In love with me?" she took a step towards you, stopping you in your track as she placed her arms around your hips. "Gosh Patri! We kissed one- multiple times nothing more. Don‘t be so cocky" you couldn’t describe how you felt, you felt angry and upset and so caught up in your thoughts.

"I am in love with you" she pulled your body against her own before she pressed you against the car. "I‘m in love with you since the first time you lost something" her eyes met yours, yourself still rambling about Mapis words, your own feelings and the key you had forgotten at home. "You hear me?" She pushed herself more in to yourself, her hand up to rest on your cheek - you stopped talking. "I‘m in love with you. And those kisses weren‘t nothing. They were everything," she whispered against your lips, an inch away. You could feel her breath, "i don‘t care If you lose stuff but i care about you" pulling back again, a respectable amount of space between your lips. "Do you know how terrifying it is when you get a call at 3am from the girl you love who‘s telling you that she‘s lost!" her voice got louder before it got more quiet again, "Amor, I was worried not mad at you about waking me up" your mouth agape, not believing what she‘s saying. Your brain couldn‘t process everything, only the one thing that was the most important "you love me?"

"Yeah, of course I do"

You lunge forward, pressing your lips against the spaniards, a kiss so desperately needed. Your hands grabbed her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, her hands around your waist, tightening every now and then. It was euphoric. "I do, too" you whispered against her mouth before pulling her back in.

Lost and found.

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#patri guijarro #patri guijarro x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barcelona women #barca femeni #fcb femení #fc barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

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